
r-1 



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CHjp)TightN^ 






COPYRIGHT DEPOSrr. 





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/ MM 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS; 



OK, 



CRAYON SKETCHES 



OF THE 



J^OTICEABLE MEN OF OUR AGE. 



BT 



GEORGE W. BUNGAY. 

!Emi)£nis|)£li iwitl) OTfatnt^ portraits on %itt\. 



THIED EDITION. 



NEW YORK: 
ROBT. M. DE WITT, PUBLISHER, 

ICO & 1(;2 NASSAU STREET, 



IBfts- 



Ertekbd according to Act of Congress, in tlio year 1854, br 

DE WITT 4 OAYENPORT, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Conrk 'or the Southf rn District of New York 



VV. H. TINSON', 

PB.STEa ASD STEREOTYPEB, 

>l ISeeknwn Street. 



ALEXANDER i STOKM, 
BOOKBIKDIUil., 

7 Sprnce Stiei , 



CONTENTS. 



Daniel Webster 9 

Henry Clay 20 

Kdwin H. Cliapin {tciHi portrait) 28 

J&liii Charles Fremont 8T 

Geo. P. Mollis and N. P. WiUis 4.3 

AVilliam H. .•^eward {wU/i portrait) 52 

KUward Everett (tcith portrait) 69 

John P. Uale {uith portrait) 72 

Father Taylor 79 

Jolin C. Calhoun 82 

Lewis Cass 92 

Charles C. Burleigh 101 

Henry Ward Beecher (tw'Wt portrait) 104 

Abbott Lawrence 116 

Italph Waldo Emerson 119 

John Van Buren {icil/i portrait) 127 

John Greenleaf Whitticr 132 

Washington Irving 141 

O. W. Betbune 147 

E. P. AVhipple 150 

G. C. Ilebbe (with portrait) 1C2 

Rufus Choate 107 

Horace Mann 175 

Dr. Boardman 1S2 

Solon Robinson (with portrait) 186 

Jolm Ross Dix 190 

P. T. Barnum (wii/i, portrait) 199 

Dr. E. Kane 205 

Nathaniel Hawthorne 210 

Samuel F. B. Slorse 214 

Ceo. W. Kendall 218 

Sanjuel Houston (with portrait) 219 

Pierre Soule 223 

W. Tliackeray 2Z4 



CONTENTS. IV 

Page 

John I'iexpont 229 

Horace Greeley {with portrait) 237 

Moses Grant 24o 

George N. Briggs 241) 

Theodore Parker 253 

Neal Dow {with portrait) 2G3 

Philip S. White 26T 

Charles Sumner 273 

Ogden Hoffman {with portrait) 2S4 

E. L. Snow 286 

Thomas Francis Meagher 2S8 

Wendell PhiUips 292 

Elihu Burritt 801 

William CuUen Bryant {with portrait) 309 

Daniel S. Dickinson 316 

General Winfield Scott 323 

William R. Stacy 32T 

Gerrit Smith {with portrait) 830 

Edward Beecher 841 

Thos. Hart Benton {with portrait) 345 

William L. Marcy 346 

Alfred Bunn 847 

Peter Cartwright 861 

Anson Burlingame 355 

George Law {with portrait) 363 

Dr. J. W. Francis 3(>4 

Dr. S. H. Cox 36a 

Freeman Hunt 368 

B. P. Shillaber 372 

Bishop James S77 

Rev. Mr. Wadsworth 378 

Rev. Dr. Durbin 8S2 

S. A. Douglas {with portrait) 883 

W. Gilmore Simms 886 

James Gordon Bennett 3S9 

Caleb Gushing 890 

James Watson Webb 391 

Dr. Dufficld 892 

J. R. Lowell 394 

John Mitchel {with portrait) ., ... 40(1 



PREFACE. 



There is, at least so it seems to us, very little need 
of a Preface to such a book as this ; yet, as the public 
seems to think that the old custom of providing one 
should be kept up, and as our friend, the Author of 
these " Crayon Sketches," has asked us to furnish 
one, we do not see how we can refuse to stand, as it 
were, at the door of his picture gallery, for the purpose 
of furnishing all who may enter with a synopsis of 
what is to be seen within. And, having seen and 
examined the portraits themselves, we can, in all sin 
cerity, testify to their faithfulness and artistic merits. 

It is not, by any means, the easiest thing in the 
world to sketch portraits in pen-and-ink, so as to con- 
vey to the reader's mind accurate and life-like impres- 
sions of the originals. Different people observe objects 
from such various points of view, that what to one 
might appear a satisfactory resemblance, would seem 



VI PREFACE. 

to another a mere caricature. Now to meet this diffi 
culty it is requisite that the sketcher should possess 
such an intimate knowledge of the man he seeks to 
portray as will enable him to seize upon those broad 
features of character which are obserA^able by all, and 
to dispose of those peculiarities that are perceivable 
by but the few. These qualifications we believe Mr. 
Bungay to possess in an eminent degree, and do not 
doubt that the reader will entertain the same opiniop 
when he shall have read through this volume. 

All personal gossip is interesting. Although the 
matter may at first glance seem trivial, we, all of us. 
like to know something of the men whom we hear 
talked of every day, and whose works have either de- 
lighted or instructed us. How they dressed, talked, 
or amused themselves ; what they loved to eat and 
drink, and how they looked when their bows were un- 
bent. It is this sort of gossip that makes Boswell's 
Life of Johnson one of the most delightful works in 
our language ; and such petty details, though the 
" high art " biographer may deem them of but little 
value, constitute a charm which the most elaborate 
expositions of mental characteristics would fail to 
secure. 



PREFACE. VI. 



But let it not be thought that in the following por- 
traits mental traits are lost sight of. On the contrary, 
our Author has a keen eye for detecting such, and a 
ready pen to record them. A poet himself, and a true 
one. as the world will before long know, if it knows it 
not alread}^ he is well able to detect and prize the 
poetic faculty in others ; and his general knowledge of 
most subjects enables him to seize upon the prominent 
features in the politician, the philosopher, the orator, 
the merchant, or the journalist. In these " Takings" 
we think he hcis been singularly successful ; and if in 
some instances he has been hurried, by an enthusiastic 
temperament, into over-coloring, the fault may be 
easily excused, for where is the painter who does not 
now and then overstep the " modesty of nature," and 
produce effects which, though they existed in his 
prolific imagination, are not set down in the strict 
rules of art ? 

To American readers this Gallery of Portraits of 
some of their most illustrious men will be of great and 
abiding interest. Of course there are many others 
whom the Author might have sketched, but wliat single 
volume could have contained all ? Should, however, 
this book be received with favor and we do not in the 



VIU PREFACE. 

least doubt it, a second and a third series may appear 
Of such, however, it is premature to speak at present, 
and we therefore rest content with introducing this 
volume to the American reader. 

J. K D. 

Boston, Mass., June, 1854 



Orr-HAID TAIQNGS; 



OR, 



CRAYON SKETCHES 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 

America is the greatest continent, and embraces within its * 
limits the grandest mountains, the broadest lakes, the longest 
rivers, the largest prairies, and, with all these, the mightiest 
intellect. Its mountains stand up like pillars supporting the 
azure arch in the temple of nature ; its lakes are inland seas ; 
its rivers could swallow the waters of Europe without over- 
flowing their banks; and its mind is correlative with the 
magnificence of its scenery. There is but one Niagara, and 
that is in America ; there is but one Webster, and ho is in 
America. The cataract flows now, as it did when God first 
smote the rock in this Western wilderness, and He has woven 
a rainbow about its silver forehead, and ci"Owned it with a 
fountain of diamonds. It shouts the same song of liberty it 
did when the world was in its infancy. It is fi*ee and 
mighty, and cannot be hushed into silence, nor flattered into 
subserviency. So with Webster, when he lifts up his voiofl 

1* 



10 CRAYON SIvETClIES, AND 

for freedom, it is like " deep calling unto deep ;" and the 
light of Heaven illuminates his magnetic eyes and beams on 
his mighty forehead. 

Geologists have discovered the colossal hones of the Mas- 
todon, and hence we infer that there were larger animals in 
ages gone by, than we have living at present ; so, future his- 
torians will find, in their mutilated and mouldy libraries, 
the remains of Webster's greatness. In the glory of his man- 
hood he represented Massachusetts ; defended liberty ; sympa- 
thized with humanity, and won the approbation of all good 
men. Tn the arena of debate he usually came ofi" more than 
conqut i'or. He was regarded as the senator of the United 
States. When he rose in his place, in the council chamber 
of the nation, with a voice of thunder and eyes on fire, every 
face was turned towards him, every tongue was silent, for he 
was clad to the teeth in armor, had a spear h'ke a weaver's 
beam, and had been trained to battle. He has great self-pos- 
session coolness, adroitness, and tact ; never was remarkable 
for sunshiny gaiety of imagination ; rarely strayed to select 
bright flowers in the garden of literature ; his attempts at wit 
were like the antics of the elephant that tried to mimic the 
lap-dog ; but he was emphatically great. He was the 
Defender of the Constitution, and could present arguments in 
its defence with irresistible force and eloquence. His words 
were full of marrow, his logic unctuous with fatness. He 
defeated his opponents, not by the " delicacy of his tact, but 
by the prodigious power of his reason." There " was no 
Jioneyed paste of poetic diction " I'ucrusting his speeches, " like 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 11 

the candied coat of the aui-icula," but there was tremendous 
weight in his arguments. 

Webster, in earlier days, was sublime as Chatham, classi- 
cal as Burke, terse as Macintosh, forcible as Tully. Endowed 
by nature, with a noble and commanding person, he never 
failed to attract attention. When excited in debate, his 
granite face glowed with intellect ; " the terrors of his beak, 
the lightnings of his eye, were insufferable." He was the 
king of the Senate, for nature had stamped him with the 
unmistakable mark of sovereignty, regardless of the republi- 
canism of his country. There was grace in his gesture, dig- 
nity in his deportment, and humanity as well as patriotism in 
his speeches. His voice was rich, full, and clear; now thril- 
ling like the blast of a trumpet, now intimidating by the 
awful solemnity of its tone, now animating by its soul-stirring 
notes. Abroad, he was the lion of London, his noble exterior 
making him " a man of mark." He has coal-black hair, 
(now thickly sprinkled with grey,) a lofty brow, " the forge of 
thought;" magnificent eyes; an ample chest; a patrician 
hand; a face broad and dark as some of the fugitives he 
would return to bondage. See him in the zenith of his man- 
hood, standing on the battle-ground at Bunker Hill, with 
kingly dignity, uttering sentiments that will be fresh in the 
memories of millions, when the shaft of granite now standing 
there shall have crumbled to dust ! Apparently as impregna- 
ble as the granite hills of his own New Hampshire, who sup- 
posed that he, so great and gifted, towering above ordinary 
men, was as the mountain which wraps the cloud-cloak about 



12 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

its shoulders, wLile a vest of eternal snow keeps the sunshine 
for ever from its heart ! The mountain is great, sublime, and 
lofty, but cold, barren, and unapproachable ; it points towards 
Heaven, but remains fixed to earth. 

Daniel Webster has accomplished noble feats, for which ha 
merits the gratitude of good men. Since the days of 
Washington, there has been no man so well qualified, in 
many points, for the presidency, as he. His impatience and 
irritability, in consequence of his disappointment, have been 
frequently exhibited. As a last resort, he tried to conciliate 
the South at the expense of the North. As a public speaker, 
he seldom enlivens his aro-uments with the flashes of wit, but 
he has said some keen things, which have become as common 
as " household words." At a public meeting, a young aspi- 
rant for poetical and political honors attempted to drink a 
toast to the honor of the immortal John Q. Adams, who was 
present. " Mr. Adams," said the toaster, " may he perplex his 

enemies as " here the speaker hesitated, and Webster 

thundered out, " as he has his friends." Foote made a fulsome 
speech in praise of ^Ir. Webster, at one time, in the senate, 
but the " g:od-like " cut him short by shouting, " Git eout^'' 
The yankee twang he gave the sentence convulsed the senate 
with irrepressible laughter. 

For superior specimens of pure style, lofty reasoning, and 
eloquent declamation, read Mr. Webster's arguments before 
the Supreme Court, his speeches delivered in Faneuil Hall, his 
best efforts in the senate chamber, his imstudied responses at 
public dinners and conventions, his lectures before ths 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 13 

lyceums, his remarks on the gi-eat political and constitinionai 
questions of the past and present times. Indeed, all are 
familiar with these efforts of a master mind. The profes- 
sional skill and the parliamentary talent of Mr. "Webster are 
appreciated on both sides of the Atlantic. He has contended 
with the ablest intellects, — stout competitors, keen opponents, 
— and always came off with flying colors, when he was in the 
right. Even his rivals give him the credit of being the mos. 
forcible debater in America. 

At the age of thirty he appeared in the Congress of 1812, 
and Mr. Lowndes then said of him, that the North had not 
his equal, nor the South his superior. That he has been a 
sagacious statesman, a skillful diplomatist, a profound investi- 
gator, and the greatest thinker in America, is the opinion of 
millions of his countrymen. 

Never was the English language more eloquently employed 
than in Webster's magnificent speech, in reply to Haynes. 
Hear him : — 

" And now, sir, I repeat, how is it that a state legislature 
acquires any right to interfere ? Who, or what, gives them 
the right to say to the people, ' We, who are your agents and 
servants for one purpose, will undertake to decide that your 
other agents and servants, appointed by you for another pur- 
pose, have transcended the authority you gave them ?' The 
reply would be, I think, not impertinent, ' Who made you a 
judge over another's servants ? To their own masters they 
stand or fall.' 

" Sir, I deny this power of state legislatures altogether. Tl 



14 CKAYON SKETCHES, AND 

cannot stand tlie test of examination. Gentlemen may say 
that, ill an extreme case, a state government might protect 
themselves, without the aid of the state governments. Such 
a case warrants revolution. It must make, when it comes, a 
law for itself. A nullifying act of a state legislature cannot 
alter the case, nor make resistance any more lawful. In 
maintaining these sentiments, sir, I am but asserting the 
right of the people. I state what they have declared, and 
insist on their right to declare it. They have chosen to 
repose this power in the General Government, and I think it 
my duty to support it, like other constitutional powers. 

" For myself, sir, I doubt the jurisdiction of South Carolina, 
or any other state, to prescribe my constitutional duty, or to 
settle, between me and the people, the validity of laws of Con- 
gress for which I have voted. I decline her umpirage. I 
have not sworn to support the Constitution according to her 
construction of its clauses. I have not stipulated, by my 
oath of office or otherwise, to come under any responsibility, 
except to the people, and those whom they have appointed to 
pass upon the question, whether the laws, supported by my 
votes, conform to the Constitution of the country. And, sir, 
if we look to the general nature of the case, could anything 
have been more preposterous than to have made a government 
for the whole Union, and yet left its powers subject, not to 
one interpretation, but to thirteen or twenty-four interpreta- 
tions ? Instead of one tribunal — established by all, responsi- 
ble to all, with power to decide for all — shall constitutional 
questions be left to four and twenty popular bodies, each at 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 15 

liberty to decide for itself, and none bound to respect the 
decisions of others ; and each at liberty, too, to give a new 
construction, on every new election of its owti members ? 
Would anything, with such a principle in it, or rather vrith 
such a destitution of all principle, be fit to be called a govern- 
ment ? No, sir. It should not be denominated a Constitu- 
tion. It should be called, rather, a collection of topics for 
everlasting controversy ; heads of debate for a disputatious 
people. It would not be a government. It would not be 
adequate to any practical good, nor fit for any country to live 
under. To avoid all possibility of being misunderstood, 
allow me to repeat again, in the fullest manner, that I claim 
no powers for the government, by forced or unfair construc- 
tion. 1 admit that it is a government of strictly limited 
powers ; of enumerated, specified, and particularized powers ; 
ami that whatsoever is not granted is withheld. But, not- 
withstanding all this, and however the grant of powers may 
be expressed, its limits and extent may yet, in some cases, 
admit of doubt ; and the General Government would be good 
for nothing, it would be incapable of long existence, if some 
mode had not been provided in which those doubts, as they 
should arise, might be peaceably, but authoritatively, solved. 

" And now, Mr. President, let me run the honorable gentle- 
man's doctrine a little into its practical application. Let us 
look at his probable modus operandi. If a thing can be done, 
an ingenious man can tell how it is to be done. Now, I wish 
to be informed how this state interference is to be put in prac- 
tice. We will take the <'xisting case of the tariff law. South 



16 



Carolina is said to have made up her opinion upcn it. If we 
do not repeal it (as we probably shall not), she Avill then 
apply to the case the remedy of her doctrine. She will, we 
must suppose, pass a law of her legislature, declaring the 
several acts of Congress, usually called the tariff laws, null 
and void, so far as they respect South Carolina, or the citizens 
thereof. So far, all is a paper transaction, and easy enough. 
But the collector at Charleston is collecting the duties imposed 
by these tariff laws — he, therefore, must be stopped. The 
collector will seize the goods if the tariff duties are not paid. 
The state authorities will undertake their rescue : the marshal, 
with his posse, will come to the collector's aid ; and here the 
contest begins. The militia of the state will be called out to 
sustain the nullifying act. They will march, sir, under a very 
gallant leader ; for I believe the honorable member himself 
commands the militia of that part of the state. He will raise 
the NULLIFYING ACT ou his Standard, and spread it out as his 
banner. It will have a preamble, bearing that the tariff laws 
are palpable, deliberate, and dangerous violations of the Con- 
stitution. He will proceed, with his banner flying, to the cus- 
tom house in Charleston, — 



'all the whUe 
Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds.' 



Arrived at the custom house, he will tell the collector that he 
must collect no more duties under any of the tariff laws. This 
he will be somewhat puzzled to say, by the way, with a grave 
countenance, considering what hand South Carolina herself 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 17 

had in that of 1816. But, sir, the collector would, probably, 
uot desist at his bidding. Here would ensue a pause ; for they 
say, that a certain stillness precedes the tempest. Before thia 
military array should fall on the custom house, collector, 
clerks, and all, it is very probable some of those composing it 
would request of their gallant commander-in-chief to be in 
formed a little upon the point of law ; for they have doubtless 
a just respect for his opinions as a la\vyer, as well as for his 
bravery as a soldier. They know he has read Blackstone and 
the Constitution, as well as Turenne and Vauban. They would 
ask him, therefore, something concerning their rights in thia 
matter. They would inquire whether it was not somewhat 
dangerous to resist a law of the United States. What would 
be the nature of their offence, they would wish to learn, if 
they, by military force and array, resisted the execution in 
Carolina of a law of the United States, and it should turn out, 
after all, that the law was constitutional. He would answer, 
of course, treason. No lawyer could give any other answer. 
John Fries, he would tell them, had learned that some years 
ago. How, then, they would ask, do you propose to defend 
us ? ' We are not afraid of bullets, but treason has a way of 
taking people off that we do not much relish. How do you 
propose to defend us?' 'Look at my floating banner,' ho 
would reply; 'see there the nullifying law P 'It is your 
opinion, gallant commander,' they would then say, ' that if iro 
should be indicted for treason, that same floating banner of 
yours would make a good plea in bar ?' ' South Carolina is a 
sovereign state,' he would reply. ' That is true ; but would the 



18 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

judge admit our plea V ' These tariff laws,ihe would repeal 
' are unconstitutional.' 

********* 
"That Union we reached only by the discipline of oui 
virtues in the severe school of adversity. It had its origin in 
the necessities of disordered finance, prostrate commerce, and 
ruined credit. Under its benign influence, these great interests 
immediately awoke, as from the dead, and sprang forth with 
newness of life. Every year of its duration has teemed with 
fresh proofs of its utility and its blessings ; and although our 
territory has stretched out wider and wider, and our population 
spread farther and farther, they have not outran its protection 
or its benefits. It has been to us all a copious fountain of 
national, social, personal happiness. I have not allowed my- 
self, sir, to look beyond the Union, to see what might lie 
hidden in the dark recesses behind. I have not coolly weighed 
the chances of preserving liberty, when the bonds that unite 
us together shall be broken asunder. I have not accustomed 
myself to hang over the precipice of disunion, to see whether, 
with my short sight, I can fathom the depth of the abyss 
below ; nor could I regard him as a safe counsellor in the 
affiiirs of this government, whose thoughts should be mainly 
bent on considering, not how the Union should be best pre- 
served, but how tolerable might be the condition of the people 
when it shall be broken up and destroyed. While the Union 
lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread out 
before us, for us and our children. Beyond that I seek not to 
penetrate the veil. God grant that, in my day at least, tha» 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 19 

curtain may not rise. God grant that oii my vision never 
may be opened what lies behind. When my eyes shall be 
turned to behold, for the last time, the sun in heaven, may I 
not see him shinino^ on the broken and dishonored fraarments 
of a once-glorious Union ; on states dissevered, discordant, 
belligerent ; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it 
may be, in fraternal blood ! Let their last feeble and lingering 
glance, rather, behold the gorgeous ensign of the Republic, now 
known and honored throughout the earth, still full high ad- 
vanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original lustre, 
not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star obscured — 
bearing for its motto no such miserable interrogatory as, Wltat 
is all this worth? nor those other words of delusion and folly. 
Liberty first, and Union afterwards ; but everywhere, spread 
all over in characters of living light, blazing on all its ample 
folds, as they float over the sea and over the land, and in every 
wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear to 
every true American heart — Liberty and Union, now and for- 
ever, one and inseparable !" - 

Note. — It is is scarcely necessary to state, that the above sketch was written 
prior to the decease of the great statesman to whom it refers. 

AUTHOS. 



20 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



HENRY CLAY. 

Every American citizen, who has arrived at years of 
discretion, must be familiar with the remarkable history of 
Henry Clay. What man figured more conspicuously in Con- 
gress than he did during his terms of service there ? Who 
exerted such a magnetic and potent influence over the Whig 
party ? Where in this country could be found his equal for 
impassioned eloquence ? Who understood better than he did 
the modern history of the diplomacy of nations ? He was a 
man of extraordinary endowments, courteous, brave, generous, 
and urbane, and yet opinionative, arbitrary, and dogmatical. 
It is said, that on a certain occasion, while Eufus Clioate waf 
a member of the United States Senate, the imperious Kentuc- 
kian made the Massachusetts orator shrink to his seat, in the 
midst of a speech, by simply shaking his finger at him. 
What a sight ! Rufus Choate struck dumb by the pantomime 
:>f Henry Clay. As a statesman he had great forecast, save 
vhen he permitted himself to become a candidate for the 
presidency ; then he unwisely hampered himself Avith answers 
io the impertinent inquiries of the little great men which 
flash like fire-flies when the stars are shining. 

Had he been a Northern man, with a New England educa- 
tion, he would have been a bolder and braver herald of 
freedom, and he would have discountenanced those who havw 



OFF-HAXD TAKINGS. 21 

betrayed liberty in the bouse of its pi-ofessed friends for less 
than thirty pieces of silver; renegades who have crucified 
humanity — by driving in the rusty nails of cruel enactments 
and putting on the crown of bitter shame. He, however, was 
a wise statesman and a mairnificent jjentlcman. " Peace to 
his ashes." 

Having no desire whatever to dwell on that unpleasant side 
of the medal, I turn to a theme in which the general reader 
will take a deeper interest. Henry Clay had a Avell balanced 
temperament, combining vast powers of origination with 
great force and activity. Indolence was punishment to him. 
Mr. Fowler, the justly celebrated phrenologist, speaking of 
him, says, " He also had great elasticity of constitution ; could 
endure almost anything." He was tall — full six feet in his 
stockings, I should think — stood erect as the towering pines 
on the sandy hills of his native state, had a capacious chest, 
sandy complexion, florid countenance, wide, sensual mouth, 
starry eyes, and a magnificent forehead. He looked the 
patrician. Even strangers knew at a glance that he was no 
ordinary person. Nature had put a mark of distinction upon 
him, and pedestrians would stop in the road and look back 
after him. When he smiled, the infection charmed the circle 
on which his countenance shone. When he spoke, he had 
the entire nation for his audience. When ho made an effort, 
there was a vibration throughout the Confederacy. That ho 
was an ambitious man, and desired most ardently to be ele- 
vated to the highest post of honor his country could offer 
him, will not be disputed by those who are competent to 



22 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

appreciate his speeches and his sentiments. He was born to 
be a leader, and he did lead, and sometimes drive. He drove 
his cruel omnibus into the Senate, and would have hac 
Bcythes upon its wheels, if Benton had not knocked them off 
with his battering-ram. 

Mr. Clay was noted for his hospitality and great-hearted 
generosity. He was fond of tho approbation of his fellow- 
men, and would often put himself to inconvenience to accom- 
modate those even, who could render no return but gratitude 
for his magnanimity. Not at all inclined to believe in the 
wonderful and marvelous, and not being overetocked with 
veneration for religious rites and ceremonies, he was in his 
earlier days regarded as a dashing, brilliant, reckless, gifted, 
and graceless young man, with lofty anticipations that would 
never be realized. It is quite evident he expected notoriety, 
honor, and distinction, and his career proves that he did not 
over-estimate his abilities, while it furnishes positive evidence 
that his expectations were not often disappointed. Although 
a popular man, who moved the masses and even the sympa- 
thies of the poor as well as the rich — while he was naturally 
aristocratic and exclusive, and wished all to keep at a 
respectful distance from him — he was accessible and sociable 
when approached through proper mediums. No one at all 
acquainted with him could fail to notice his unfaltering firm- 
ness and unyielding perseverance. Whatever project he 
undertook was pursued with volcanic vigor until it was accom- 
plished. He was cautious, without being timid — resolute, but 
not rash — firm, but not obstinate. He could mature his plans 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 23 

in his own mind, and keep them shut up there until the time 
came for their development ; hence he was a sage politician 
— a smart tactician. He was a warm friend, and a cold, dig- 
nified enemy ; an affectionate husband (when addressing a 
large audience of beautiful ladies, a short time previous to his 
decease, he told them they were very handsome, but there 
was an old lady in Ashland, he loved more than he loved 
them), a tender father (there can be no doubt that the death 
of his son, on the Mexican battle-field, cut him to the heart, 
and hastened him to the grave, by irritating the disease to 
which lie was predisposed), and an appreciating teacher (he edu- 
cated the eminent scholar and distinguished orator, Bascom). 
He had more courage than cruelty, and would defend him- 
self when assailed with a degree of patriotic pluck which was 
a caution to the invader. The love of money was not 
remarkable in him. It is my impression that he left only a 
moderate competency behind him. In his younger days, ho 
occasionally indulged in games of chance, not for the profit 
but for the excitement of the game. Gambling, however, is 
always reprehensible, and no excuse can whitewash it into 
innocent amusement. After all, it was his mind that made 
him such an attractive man. He was fond of the sublimo 
and beautiful, had a nice discriminating taste, hence his lan- 
guage and his illustrations were chaste and elegant, and he 
became the most eloquent expounder of the principles of his 
party. The magazines are filled with specimens of his glow- 
ing imagery and subtle reasoning. It was, indeed, a rich 
♦reat to look up at bis stalwart form and listen to the deep 



24 



notes that pealed from his organ-chest, until the senate 
chamber rang with the mighty magic of his unapproachable 
eloquence. He had not the massive grandeur of Webster, 
but he was more acute in his argument, and had a more 
gracious manner of delivery. He did not display the 
scholarship of Benton, but he had a richer fancy and more 
declamatory power, and far exceeded him in mattei-s of diplo- 
macy. Without the calmness of Cass, he always commanded 
more attention in Conojress than the arreat oriant of Michisran. 
Perhaps he may be called, the Canning of America; 
although his style is pecuhar to himself, there is the same 
fascinating finish — the same mingling of pathos and poetry, 
argument and invective. He was rapid, forcible, brilliant, 
piercing. His wit was always refined as attic salt, his humor 
perfectly irresistible, though seldom indulged, his invective as 
rankling as the bite of an adder. Now he sounded the deep 
sea of passion — then he soared to the sky of fancy. He 
would have shone in Parliament with such men as Pitt, Fox, 
Burke, and Sheridan. 

His mind was not like the eye of Cyclops, " letting in a 
flood of rushing and furious splendor," but a Drummond light, 
illuminating without impairing what it shone upon. His let- 
ters are lucid, terse, fluent, courteous, classical, with the heart 
of their author throbbing in them.' His collected speeches 
form volumes of American eloquence, which should be found 
in every well-appointed library in our land. The last 
speeches he made breathe the same youthful v\gcr of his 
earlier efforts, and the reader never thinks that the speaker was 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 25 

a venerable white-haired man ; indeed, his heart never became 
grey. If the Congress of the United States may be called an 
aviary of birds of prey, he was the eagle in that aviary ; if 
it may bo termed a menagerie, he was the lion of that 
menagerie. It is to be deeply deplored that such a man was 
a slavehold'T, that he lived and died a defender of slavery ; 
that he ever countenanced in any way the cruel code of 
honor which demands a man to make a martyr of himself to 
" preserve his honor unsullied." 

I here annex a specimen of the style of Mr. Clay's oratory : — 

Hon. Henry Clay's appeal in behalf of Greece. 

" Mr. Chairman : — There is reason to apprehend that a tre- 
mendous storm is ready to burst upon our unhappy country 
— one which may call into action all our vigor, courage, and 
resources. Is it wise or prudent, then, sir, in preparing to 
breast the storm, if it must come, to talk to this nation of its 
incompetency to repel European aggression, to lower its spirit, 
to weaken its moral energy, and to qualify it for easy conque.it 
and base submission ! If there bo any reality in the dangers 
which are supposed to encompass us, should we not animate 
the people and adjure them to believe, as I do, that our re- 
sources are ample, and that we can bring into the field a 
million of freemen ready to expend their last drop of blood, 
and to spend their last cent in the defence of their country, 
its liberty and its institutions ? 

" Sir, are we, if united, to be conquered by all Europe com- 
bii-ed ? No, sir, no united nation that resolves to be free can 

2 



26 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

be conquered. And has it come to this ? Are we so humble, 
so low, so debased, that we dare not express our sympathy for 
sufferinec Greece : that we dare not articulate our detestation 
of the brutal exercise of which she has been the bleeding vic- 
tim, lest we might offend one or more of their imperial and 
royal majesties ? Are we so mean, so base, so despicable, that 
we may not attempt to express our horror, utter our indigna- 
tion at the most brutal and atrocious war that ever stained 
earth or shocked high heaven ; at the ferocious deeds of a 
savage and infuriated soldiery, stimulated and urged on by the 
clergy of a fanatical and inimical religion, and rioting in all 
the excesses of blood and butchery, at the mere details of 
which the heart sickens and recoils ? 

" But, sir, it is not for Greece alone that I desire to see the 
measure adopted, it will give her but little support, and that 
purely of a moral kind. It is principally for America — for the 
credit and character of our common country, for our own un- 
sullied name, that I hope to see it pass. What appearance, 
Mr. Chairman, on the page of history, would a record like this 
exhibit ? — ' In the month of January, in the year of our Lord 
and Saviour 1824, while all European Christendom beheld witT.i 
cold and unfeeling indifference, the unexampled wrongs and 
inexpressible misery of Christian Greece, a proposition was 
made in the Congress of the United States, almost the sole, 
the last, the greatest depository cf human hope and freedom, 
the representatives of a gallant nation, containing a miilion of 
freemen ready to fly to arms, while the people of that nation 
were spontaneously expressing its deep-toned feeling, and the 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 2*1 

whole continent, by one simultaneous emotion, was rising and 
solemnly and anxiously supplicating and invoking high heaven 
to spare and succor Greece, and to invigorate her arms, in her 
glorious cause ; — while temples and senate-houses were alike 
resounding with one burst of generous and holy sympathy ; 
in the year of our Lord and Saviour — that Saviour of Greece 
and of us — a proposition was offered in the American Congress 
to send a message to Greece, to inquire into her state and 
condition, with a kind expression of our good wishes and our 
sympathies — and it was rejected !' 

" Go home, if you can, go home, if you dare, to your con 
stituents, and tell them that you voted it down. Meet, if you 
can, the appalling countenances of those who sent you here, 
and tell them that you shrunk from the declaration of your 
own sentiments ; that you cannot tell how, but that some un- 
known dread, some indescribable apprehension, some indefinite 
danger, drove you from your purpose ; that the spectres of 
scimitars, and crowns, and crescents, gleamed before you, and 
alarmed you ; and that you suppressed all the noble feelings 
prompted by religion, by liberty, by national independence, 
and by humanity. 

" I cannot, sir, bring myself to believe that such will be the 
feelings of a majority of this committee. But for myself, 
though every friend of the cause should desert it, and I be left 
to stand alone with the gentleman from Massachusetts, I will 
give to his resolution the poor sanction of my unqualified 
approbation.'" 



28 CRAVON SKETCHES, AND 



EDWIN II. CIIAPm. 

Edwin H. Ghapin is one of the ablest and most eloquent 
expounders and defenders of the doctrine of unlimited salva- 
tion. He has no foith in the old black fellow who keeps the 
fire-office. He imagines that poets and divines give him 
more credit for sagacity and potency than he deserves, and 
that if he ever was a genius he is now in his dotage, and, 
furthermore, that he has not goodness enough to be entitled 
to our respect, nor influence sufficient over our future destiny 
to alarm our fears. To him a devil by any other name is just 
as dreadful, and the Satan he endeavors to subdue he calls 
Evil, Sin, Crime, Vice, Error. He thinks the distillery, where 
the worm dieth not and the fires are unquenched, is a hell on 
earth, which causes weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth. 

Mr. Chapin is an independent, straight-forward man, who 
has a will and a way of his own, and he is willing to allow 
others the same freedom he assumes himself. He does not 
expect his church to cough when he takes cold, nor to acqui- 
esce in silent submission to every proposition that he makes. 
He is not a theological tyrant, threatening vengeance, and 
outer- darkness, and eternal fire, to all the members of his 
flock who will not uncomplainingly and unhesitatingly yield 
to his spiritual supervisorship. His lessons and lectures may 



tif: 




I 



(^^ c^. ■^^^^^-^^^-^5^!^ 



/* 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 2S 

sometimes smell of the lamj), but they never smell of brim 
stone. His education, his temperament, his organization of 
brain, his natural benevolence, and the society in which he 
has lived, moved, and had his being, have contributed to 
make him a preacher of the gospel. He advocates vith 
heroic courage and untiring zeal the doctrines of his faith, but 
Ks universally respected by all denominations of professing 
Christians. 

Mr. Chapin, is happily constituted. Tlie animal and the 
angel of his nature are so nicely balanced, and his poetical 
temperament is so admirably controlled by his practical 
knowledge, that his intellectual efforts are invariably stamped 
with the mint-mark of true currency. There is harmonious 
blending of the poetical and the practical, a pleasant union 
of the material with the spiritual, an arm-in-arm connection 
of the ornamental and useful, a body and soul joined together 
in his discourses. He avoids two extremes, and is not so 
material as to be cloddish, of the earth earthy, nor so atrial as 
to be vapory, or of the clouds cloudy. There is something 
tangible, solid, nutritious, and enduring in his sermons. IIo 
is not profound in the learning of the schools. Many of hi». 
inferiors could master him on doctrinal questions. The out- 
bursting and overwhelming effusions of his natural eloquence, 
the striking originality of his conceptions, the irresistible 
power of his captivating voice, the vivid and copious display 
of illustration, thrill and charm the appreciative hearer. IIo 
presents his arguments and appeals with an articulation as 
distinct and understandable as his gesticulation is awkward. 



30 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

He is sometimes abrupt, rapid, and vehement, but never " tears 
a passion to tatters." " His tenacious memory enables him to 
quote with great promptitude, and he has that delicate, sensi 
tive taste which enables him to select, with unerring precision, 
whatever is truly sublime and beautiful." 

Mr. Chapin declaims splendidly, in spite of his hands, 
which are always in his way. The stiff and technical re- 
straints of style, which disfigure the pulpit efforts of some 
divines, never appear in his sermons, but seem rather to pinion 
his elbows and cramp his fingers. He has a fervid imagina- 
tion, great facility of expression, is scrupulously correct in his 
pronunciation ; never indulges in hj'^ocritical cant. There is 
no theatrical uplifting of the hands and uprolling of the eyes, 
so frequently witnessed in the hysteric raptures of mahogany 
orators. He seems to have a thorough knowledge of his 
subject, and commands your admiration by the kingly majesty 
and sublime beauty of his thought. Now he flings a page of 
meaning into a single aphorism, — now he electrifies his spell- 
bound hearers with a spontaneous burst of eloquence, — now 
he dissolves their eyes to tears by a wizard stroke of pathos, 
— now he controls their hearts with the sovereign power of a 
monarch who rules the mind-realm. "He infuses his soul 
into his voice, and both into the nerves and heart of the 
hearer." 

In person, he is stout, fleshy, and well-proportioned. He 
has a full, florid face, which indicates good health and happy 
contentment; countenance mild, benignant and thoughtful, 
»* b Hn expression of integrity, denoting his inability to peer- 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 31 

form a meal action ; is near- sigli ted, and this defect is no 
small disadvantage to him when he reads, and may account 
for his ungraceful action in the pulpit, since it compels him to 
face his manuscript so closely, he almost eats his own words, 
and salutes his own rich figures and glowing sentiments, and 
fulfils literally the scripture maxim, " He shall kiss his own lips 
who giveth a correct answer." As I have just intimated, ha 
usually reads his discourses, although he is an easy extempo- 
raneous speaker ; but he is apt to become so intensely excited 
he rarely trusts to his impidses. He commands a very ready 
pen, and is the author of two or three small volumes, which 
are widely circulated. His hair is dark brown. He wears 
ghusses, so I cannot tell the color of his eyes ; has a broad, 
high forehead, indicating the intellectual strength of ita 
owner ; is now about forty years of age, and has labored with 
honor and success for many years, in Richmond, Va., Charles- 
town, Mass., as well as Boston, but is now preaching in tho 
city of New York, where he is very popular and useful. 

Mr. Chapin has recently delivered a number of discourses, 
illustrating the phases and corruptions of city life. We give 
below a few extracts from some of his lectures ; although it is 
but just to say that they have been taken from reports and 
sketches, and not from any revised or complete publication by 
the riTithor, who is now preparing them for the press of D. <feD. 
. Here is an extract from his remarks made respecting the 
fearful catastrophe on the New Haven Railroad. 

"A natural and I believe a proper impulse breathes in tho 
old petition, "From sudden death, good Lord, dehver us!" 



r,2 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

At least from deatli in sucli a form ? — Always solemn in its 
presence, it brings with it, often, reconciling tenderness and 
majesty. There is consolation in dying at home — a complete- 
ness of circumstances, which is in harmony with the fiilling 
leaf and up-springing grass, and all those inevitable yet 
beneficent processes of nature, which steady our hearts and 
assure our faith. There is a sweet anguish springing up in 
our bosoms when a child's face brightens under the shadow 
of the waitino; ano-el. There is an autumnal fitness when age 
gives up the ghost ; and when the saint dies there is a tearful 
victory. Without recklessness, yet with intrepid determina- 
tion, we feel that we carry our lives in our hands, as we go 
into a battle, or walk by the skirts of the pestilence. But to 
have life battered out in an instant ; to have death's darkness 
overwhelm us with one plunge, and the rush of waters ; to have 
the vital instrument beating with the full consciousness of it.s 
own existence, and the next, stopped by a horror that 
petrifies itself in the dead form, and that carves itself upon 
the dead face, as with a sculptor's chisel ; is a violation of our 
nature. 

" Cut out of this specific experience in life there arises 
another consideration, which is never out of place. It is that 
Bober balance of mind which Ave should always preserve. I 
have shown that the Christian looks upon our present existence 
with no mean or gloomy vision. Many are the joys and the 
blessings of life, and he who shrouds them with ascetic melan- 
choly, is as ungrateful as he is unwise. But if, on the other 
iiand, we are inclined to forget that tritcst of facts — that all 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 33 

these joys aud blessings are lield in uncertainty ; that fact is 
forced upon us by calamities like this. ^Vhat hopes, what 
associations, what schemes, went forth that morning in the 
crowded train ? Upon what a wreck did that day's noon look 
down ! What bright plans dashed into darkness ! What 
bounding hearts stopped by the sudden flood ! What dreams 
instantly breaking into the great Reality I Ye cannot tell us 
now, who, but a week ago, sat side by side with loved 
ones in the quiet New England Sabbath, whose graves to-day 
will drink the Sabbath rain. Ye cannot tell who, ministers of 
healing to so many, had for yourselves such ghastly death-beds, 
and heard, it may be, the cheering of the festal hall blend with 
the thundering doom. Thou canst not tell whose marriage 
covenant was sealed with the kiss of death, and who came up 
from the waters with dripping bridal-robes. Sharp lesson of 
uncertainty, crashing upon our ears, and causing all the secu- 
rities of our life to topple ; out of whose confusion issues the 
solemn text — ' Boast not thyself of to-morrow ; for thou know- 
est not what a day may bring forth !' Teach us, while we gi-asp 
our joys with due appreciation, to temper them with serious- 
ness, and to live with prepared hearts. 

***** JKr « 

" And against this recklessness, I repeat, provision should 

be made by every measure which will enforce respect for 

human life — a sentiment which, I am grieved to say, needs to 

be more widely and deeply felt in our age and our country. 

Life is precious. It is a priceless fi-eight which you bear in 

those rushing cars, oh ! driving engineer — a freight of warm 

2* 



34 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

blood, and beating hearts, and dear relations' lives. The engine 
that pants before with throbbing breast, and arteries of fire, is 
but a poor symbol of the precious vitality and curious work- 
manship of the meanest life that it drags along. An unsteady 
brain, a deceit of the eye, a slight risk, and the wealth of exist- 
ence committed to your charge is shattered to ruin. And is 
it not right that the community, that fathers, and wives, and 
brothers, and sons should hold you stringently bound to all 
the responsibilities of your office, and refuse to cast upon 
Providence the burden of your fault? Something besides 
profit and the price of stock must enter into your account, O ! 
iron-hearted corporation. Against dollars you must balance 
life ; and if a little gain is of more consequence than a bolt 
more firmly driven, or an additional officer at a dangerous 
point, say not that the community acts merely under excite- 
ment if it cuts the nerves by which corporations do feel." 

The following fine passage occurs in his sermon on the Vice 
of Great Cities. 

" A young man now, when he gets in town, is too great 
entirely to retain any regard for parental authority. His father 
is no lonjrer such — he turns into the ' old man.' The mother 
is also carelessly treated, and thus ties are weakened or broken 
which should never end but with death, and sometimes even 
then they scarce end ; for when misfortune meets you or dis- 
grace comes on, what heart beats the truest for, and clings 
closer to you in disgrace, in ruin, in poverty, even at the vergo 
of death, but the mother's ? You, young men, should be care 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 35 

ful of yielding to the first temptation, for it is in that tin 
daufjer is. No one when he first took drink ever intended to 
become a drunkard, and yet we have seen intemperance so 
gain on men, that it narrowed and narrowed, till it encased 
them, as it were, in an iron shroud, which crushes and kills. 
I have read a very impressive tale of a young man who was 
confined in a dungeon having seven windows, but which was 
made of iron. On the second morning after he went there he 
found but six. He suspected something, and watched, and 
the next day there were but five, and his food and bed changed. 
So it went on changing from day to day, till he had but ^tn^ 
window, and immediately the bells began to ring, and he then 
knew ho was fast enclosed in that tower by his enemy, in 
order to be crushed to death by a slow and tormenting process." 

After some further remarks on the right of females to 
an equality in everything with the male portion of society, 
he concluded by again exhorting the youth to beware of yield- 
ing to the first temptation. 

With this gem which I tear from its setting in a recent 
sermon, on " City and Country," I must close this sketch. 

"The pleasures of a country life, moreover, are enhanced, 
by having the city, with its intelligence and facilities within 
reach. Is is comfortable to have one's retirement tapped by 
the railroad, and connected by telcgraiihic wires ; and the 
murmur of the trees mingles pleasantly with the hum of popu- 
lar applause. To the country belong all the a,spects and influ- 
ences of nature — of valley and woodland, of rock and river 



36 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

the fitting stillness of niglit, tue pomp of morning, the inex 
pressible loveliness it pictures ever new, and all the glories of 
the punctual year. The poet's line one cannot help quoting 
here, ' God made the country, but man made the town,' anil 
jt has doubtless a true signification ; it refllly extends to Divine 
works that stand far above any human achievement ; an-i 
when one is sick and tired with routine — when he is dazzled 
by the shows, or troubled by the afflictions of life — let him go 
out into the calm breadth of nature, and confer with realities 
that are fresh and unabused, as they came from the hand of 
the Maker. "Whatever is inspiring in mountains, lovely in the 
reach of landscape, or impressive in the still woods, will serve 
his deliverance from weariness and distaste. Let the medita- 
tive man pass out from tangled controversies into the harmo- 
nies of the universe. Let the man injured by the follies and 
nonsense of books, recover health in studying the stereotypes 
of God ; what revolution, what history is written in every 
wrinkle of the earth ; what mysteries in all the unrolled 
heavens ; and let vice and sordidness, and all the brood of evil 
passions and canker, go and be rebuked by the holy presence 
which is so evident in the air and sky. ' God made the coun- 
try,' and all around it keeps the stamp of the Maker ; but man 
* makes the town,' and fabrics of stone and brick, which sliall 
crumble away. However, this fact suggests to us to consult a 
deeper truth." 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 31 



JOHN CHARLES FREMONT. 

One of the most remarkable men of modern times is Johi) 
Charles Fremont, Thomas Benton's son-in-law. He has reso- 
lution, no obstacle can sway ; bravery, no danger can intimi- 
date ; enterprise, no undertaking can over-match. 

Having a strong wish to hang his portrait on the walls of 
my little volume, I take the following sketch from the " Gal- 
lery of Illustrious Americans." 

" The feet of three men have pressed the slopes of the 
Rocky Mountains, whose names are associated for ever with 
those vast ranges ; Humboldt, the Nestor of scientific travel- 
lers ; Audubon, the Interpreter of Nature, and Fremont, 
the Pathfinder of Empire. Each has done much to illus- 
trate the Natural History of North America, and to 
develope its illimitable resources. The youngest of all is likely 
to become as illustrious as either, for fortune has linked his 
name with a scene in the history of the Republic, as startling 
to the world as the firet announcement of its existence. To his 
hands was committed the magnificent task of opening the gates 
of our Pacific Empire. His father was an emigrant gentleman 
from France, and his mother a lady of Virginia. Although 
his father's death k'ft him an orphan in his fourth year, 
he was thoroughly educated ; and when, at the age of seventeen. 



38 

he graduated at Charleston College, he contributed to the 
support of his mother and her younger children. From teach- 
ing mathematics he turned his attention to civil engineering, 
in which he displayed, so much talent, he was recommended by 
Mr. Poinsett, Secretary of War, to Nicollet, as his assistant in 
the sui'vey of the basin of the upper Mississippi. Two years 
he was with that learned man in liis field of labors, and 
he won his applause and friendship. On his return to Wash- 
ington, he continued his services to the geographer for two 
years longer, in drawing up from his field-book, the great map 
which unfolded to science the vast tract they had explored. 
Thirsting for adventure, he now planned the first of those dis- 
tant and perilous expeditions which have given lustre to his 
name. Having received a lieutenant's commission in the corps 
of Topographical Engineers, he proposed to the Secretary of 
War to penetrate the Rocky Mountains. His plan was 
approved, and in 1842, with a handful of men, gathered on 
the Missouri frontier, he reached and explored the South Pass. 
He achieved more than his instructions required. He not 
only fixed the locality and character of that great Pass, through 
which myriads are now pressing to California — he defined the 
astronomy, geography, botany, geology and meteorology of • 
the country, and designated the route since followed, and 
the points from which the flag of the Union is now flying 
from a chain of wilderness fortresses. 

" His report was printed by the Senate, translated into 
foreign languages, and the scientific world looked on Fremont 
as one of its benefactors. Lnpatient, however, for broader and 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 3& 

more hazardous fields, lie planned a new expedition to tlio 
distant territory of Oregon. His first had carried him to the 
summits of the Rocky Mountains. Wilkes had surveyed the 
tide-water regions of the Columbia river ; between the two 
explorers lay a tract of a thousand miles, which was a blank 
in geography. 

"In May, 1843, he left the frontier of Missouri, and in 
November he stood on Fort Vancouver, with the calm waters 
of the Pacific at his feet. He had approached the mountains 
by a new line, scaled their summits south of the South Pass, 
deflected to the Great Salt Lake, and pushed examinations 
right and left along his entire course. He joined his survey to 
Wilkes' Exploring Expedition, and his orders were fulfilled. 
But he had opened one route to the Columbia, and he wished 
to find another. There was a vast region south of his lint, 
invested with a fabulous interest, and he longed to apply to it 
the test of science. It was the beginning of winter. With- 
out resources, adequate supplies, or even a guide, and with only 
twenty-five companions, he turned his face once more towards 
the Rocky Mountains. Then began that wonderful Expedi- 
tion, filled with romance, achievement, daring, and sufiering, 
in which ho was lost from the world nine months, traversing 
3,500 miles in sight of eternal snows ; in which he explored 
and revealed the grand features of Alta California, its great 
basin, the Sierra Nevada, the valleys of San Joaquin and 
Sacramento, explored the fabulous Buenaventura, revealed the 
real El Dorado, and established the geography of the Western 



40 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

part of our continent. In August, 1844, he was agiiin ir 
Washington, after \n absence of sixteen months. His Report 
put tlie seal to the feme of the young explorer. 

"He was planning a third Expedition while writing a 
history of the second; and before its publication, in 1845, ho 
was again on his way to the Pacific, collecting his mountain 
comrades, to examine in detail the Asiatic slope of the North 
American Continent, which resulted in giving a new volume 
of science to the world, and California to the United States. 
We cannot trace his achievements during the war with 
Mexico, nor Avill future times inquire how many and how 
great battles he fought. After the conquest of California, 
Fremont was made the victim of a quarrel between two 
American commanders. Like Columbus, he Avas brought 
home a prisoner over the vast territory he had explored ; 
stripped by a court-martial of his commission, as Lieut.-Colonel 
of Mounted Riflemen, and re-instated by the President. Fre- 
mont needed justice, not mercy, and he returned his com- 
mission. His defence was worthy of a man of honor, genius, 
and learning. During the ninety days of his trial, his nights 
were given to science. 

" Thus ended his services to the Government, but not to 
mankind. He was now a private citizen, and a poor man. 
Charleston offered him a lucrative office, which he refused. 
He had been brought a criminal from California, where ho 
had been Explorer, Conqueror, Peacemaker, and Governor. 
He determined to retrieve his honor on the field where ho 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 4] 

IiaJ been robbed of it. One line more wourd complete hia 
suiveys — the route for a great road from the Mississippi to 
San Francisco. 

"Again lie appeared on tlie far West. Ilis old moun- 
taineers flocked around liini, and with 33 men and 130 
mules, perfectly equipped, he started for tlie Pacific. On the 
Sierra San Juan, all his mules and a third of his men perislied 
in a more than Russian cold ; and Fremont arrived on foot 
at Santa Fe, stripped of everything but life. It was a moment 
for the last pang of despair which breaks the heart, or the 
moral heroism which conquers Fate itself. The men of the 
wilderness knew Fremont ; they refitted his expedition ; ho 
started again, pierced the country of the fierce and remorse- 
less Apaches ; met, awed or defeated savage tribes ; and in a 
hundred days from Santa Fe, he stood on the glittering banks 
of the Sacramento. The men of California reversed the 
judgment of the court-martial ; and Fremont was made the 
first Senator of the Golden State. It was a noble tribute to 
science and heroism. 

" His name is identified for ever with some of the proudest 
and most grateful passages in American History. His twenty 
thousand miles of wilderness explorations, in the midst of the 
inclemencies of nature, and the ferocities of jealous and 
merciless tribes ; his powers of endurance in a slender form ; 
his intrepid coolness in the most appalling dangers ; his 
magnetic sway over enlightened and savage men ; his vast 
contributions to science ; his controlling energy in the exten- 
sion of our empire ; liis lofty and unsullied ambition ; his 



42 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



magnanimity, humanity, genius, sufferings, and heroism, make 
all lovers of progress, learning and virtue, rejoice that Fre- 
mont's services have been rewarded by high civic honors, 
exhaust Wr wealth, and the admiration and gratitude of man- 
kind." 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 43 



GEO. P. MORRIS, N. P. WILLIS, 

JUPGE NOAH, "PETER PAULEY," AND LONGFELLOW. 

The following characteristic article from the pen of Doctor 
John Ross Dix, was written, at my request, expressly for this 
volume. I am sure the reader will thank him a thousand 
times for introducing to the public in such a handsome 
manner the noted gentlemen whom he so graphically des- 
scribes. 

I had been about a week or ten days in the city of New 
York, when, having got rid of the lassitude which the intense 
and unaccustomed heat induced, I made arrangements for 
presenting some of the letters of introduction with which I 
had been provided in England. Selecting a few from the 
bundle, I tripped down the steps of the " Astor," and cross- 
ing that world-renowned thoroughfare, Broadway, entered the 
Park, passed by the fountain which played, encircled by rain- 
bows, beneath the bluest of skies and in the clearest of 
atmospheres, and directed my steps toward Ann street. 

Ann street, with its neighbor, Nassau street, may be called 
the Paternoster Row of New York, since in it there are 
situated most of the newspaper and periodical publication 
offices. Over one of these appeared a sign-board, on which 
were emblazoned in gold letters, the words " Mirror Office," so, 



44 CRAYON SKKTCIIES, AXD 

drawing from ray pocket two letters, one of them addressee 
to "General George P. Morris," and the other to " N. P, 
"Willis, Esq.," I entered the counting-room. 

It was a small, square apartment, divided into two portions 
by an unpainted wooden counter, behind and above which 
were shelves, on which lay back numbers and bound volumes 
of the New York Mirror. On the wall, over a stove, were 
hung proof impressions of some of Mr. Bartlett's Views of 
American Scenery, and a flaming portrait of an American 
Eagle, whose beak had "a downward drag austere," and 
whose claw^s held a bunch of thunderbolts. Hung about 
the place were simdry and divers bills, which informed the 
public that the " New York Mirror"was, far and away, the 
cheajiest and best serial in the whole United States ; and 
some lithographed circulars, which clearly proved that no more 
profitable mode of investing dollars and cents, than by pur- 
chasing the said " Mirror, " could by any means be hit upon. 

On entering the office I looked round, but perceived no 
one ; yet fancying that a clerk might be in an inner apartment, 
I rapped on the counter with a dollar piece. Scarcely, however^ 
had the " silver sound" disturbed the quiet of the place, than 
from behind a railed desk, at the end of the counter, near the 
window of the ofiice, emerged a bright-eyed, brisk looking 
little gentleman, who very politely inquired my business. 

Let me describe him. He was about five feet two or three 
.nches high, or, perhaps, a few inches more, not much more, 
however. His face was genial and pleasant. Short, crisp, dark 
curly hair, tliinly streaked with silver thrends, encircled a high 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS, 45 

well-formed forehead, beneath which was a pair of bright, 
twinkling black eyes. The nose was well-shape«I, and the 
mouth and chin cast in delicate moulds, the latter being slightly 
dimpled. The complexion was fresh and florid ; altogether 
the aspect of the face was decidedly intellectual ; not your 
pseudo-pensive, thoughtful sort of expression — that mock senti 
mentalism of look which certain young gentlemen, with turn- 
down collars, rejoice in, but a pleasant, vivacious, sparkling 
Tom Moore-ish look, which at once convinced you that its 
owner was open-hearted, as well as open-faced. The gentle- 
man, too, had a semi-military air and carriage, albeit, he had 
by no means a martial figure ; and I certainly was rather 
taken aback, when, in reply to my question whether General 
Morris was within, he replied with a smile : 

" Yes — I am General Mori is." 

It is not much to be wondered at that T felt some surprise 
at thus unexpectedly confronting so potent a personage as a 
great military commander! for it must be remembered that I 
had not yet been a fortnight in a country where generals, 
majors and colonels, arc rather more numerous than in Eng- 
land. The very title of " General " had conveyed the idea of 
a tall, pompous soldier, with plumed cap, fierce moustachios, 
and dangling sabretasch, clad all in scarlet, and glittering 
with gold. How different the appearance of the rather diminu- 
tive gentleman before me, who, instead of a plume, brandished 
a pen — was surrounded by hot-pressed reams, instead of hot- 
blooded soldiers, and in whose peaceful armory, books super- 
seded bullets. 



46 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

It was not, liowever, in liis military capacity that I no\t 
sought the acquaintance of General George P. Morris, Yeara 
and years before, both myself and hundreds besides me in "Old 
England," had, in many a street, lane, and alley, heard from 
barrel-organs, hurdy-gurdys, bagpipe, and fiddle, aye, and 
from grand pianos too, played upon by fair fingers, on still 
summer evenings, as we wandered through quiet squares, the 
windows of which were half-open to allow the melody to 
stream through screens formed by flowers and foliage — I say, 
years before I had heard the General's popular and famous 
song of " Woodman, spare that Tree," then, little dreaming 
that I should ever grasp the hand of its author. But so it 

happened, that no sooner had Morris read Dr. M 'a 

letter, than America's best song writer bade me a hearty wel- 
come, and I felt myself at once at home with him. 

I do not imagine that General Morris has seen much stern 
military service, for I believe him to be merely the command- 
ing officer of a militia corps, a very peaceable and harmless 
body of citizens in general, their operations being confined to 
occasional musters, parades, and processionizing ; after which 
services they lay aside martial glory, and peaceably repose, on 
imaginary laurels, in the bosom of their aff'ectionate families. 
His, has been almost exclusively a literary life, and, like all 
other writers for the piiblic press, he has experienced vicissi- 
tudes. Employed more as a journalist than as a poet, he has 
not been very copious of verse, but such works as have pro- 
ceeded from his pen are highly popular. He has been called 
the Tom Moore of America, but such a title is not just, for in 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 



4V 



his own way, he is quite as original as the Bard of Erin. 
Let us speak of him rather as the Columbian Korner — the 
well-known author of the " Sword-song," — the hero of the 
sword and pen. 

As a man, there are few more respected, and, indeed, be- 
loved, among his literary brethren in New York, than 
General Morris. His liberality, even at times when, perhaps, 
he can ill afford it, to his brethren in distress, is said to be 
unbounded, and he has more than once impoverished himself 
by serving others ; some years since, he had a lovely resi- 
dence on the banks of the Hudson, but owing to losses in 
business he was compelled to quit it. In conjunction with 
another literary man, he has long been connected with the 
New York Press, and " Morris and Willis," sound as naturally 
as if the owners of these names had been a Siamese sort of 
twins. At present they edit the best family literary paper in 
America — the " Home Journal," — and in the office in Fulton 
street, may any day be seen, florid and flourishing, the author 
of " Woodman, spare that Tree !" 

Fancy me, reader, still conversing with General Moms, 
when a stranger, at least to me, enters the little Ann street 
office. He is a tall dashing looking fellow, dressed rather 
in the extreme of fashion, yet in good taste, and with an air 
of fashionable languor about him. Nodding familiarly to the 
General, who smilingly returns his salute, he drops into a 
chair, stretches out his well-shaped legs, and, coquetting with a 
cigar, appears to watch the circling blue rays of smoke that 
Boar to the ceiling. 



48 CRAYON SKKTCHK8, AND 

The stranger might be called handsome — certainly he has 
been so, but time and the pen have left their traces on his 
face ; evidently he cultivates the Graces, although the enemy 
has thinned his curling locks, which are jauntily disposed over a 
fine forehead. His eyes are blue, and have much vivacity in 
their expression, but at their outer angles are those unmis- 
takable evidences of coming age — crows'-feet. The cheeks are 
not so plump and fresh-looking as thev must have appearea 
ten years ago, and they have a yellowish tinge, which travel 
or good living might have caused. The nose is short and 
slightly retrousse^ the mouth delicately curved and the chin 
systematically chiselled. The shape of the face is round, 
and when the "dew of youth" rested on it, it must have been 
intellectually handsome, despite the dash of efteminacy that 

characterises it. Then, as to the figure of Mr. (I will tell 

you his name presently), it is, to use a trite phrase, what is 
called " good," that is — it is tall and well-proportioned; and 
if General Morris might be described by Goldsmith's line, 

" An abridgment of all that is pleasant in man," 

the gentleman now specially alluded to may be spoken of as 
a D'Orsay-ish looking fellow, not at all curtailed either in 
height or breadth of Nature's fixir proportions. 

I had some dim recollections of having seen that face some- 
where before ; but where^ for the life of me, I could not ima- 
gine. It might have been in a theatre, in the street, in a 
church, or in a drawing-room. No, it had not been in any 
such place. A thought struck me — I had seen some one like 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 49 

him on the frontispiece of a book. I had not long to remain 
in doubt, for Morris, after having dispatched a boy with a 
bundle of " Mirrors," said — 

"Mr. , let me have the pleasure of introducing you to 

Mr. Willis — my partner." 

So then, the trifling mystery was cleared up. 

Who has not heard of N. P. Willis, the renowned " penciller 
by the way," upon whose shoulders Lockhart laid the critical 
lash so severely ? Every one who knows anything of literary 
people has heard of him. I had, of course known him well 
by reputation, and therefore, on my introduction, regarded him 
with considerable interest. On my name being mentioned, he 
asked me whether I was the author of some lines on the death 
of Campbell which had a few days before appeared in the 
" Mirror." After kindly complimenting me on them, we di- 
verged into various topics of conversation, and, on my remark- 
ing that I wished to find Major Noah, to whom I had a letter, 
he very politely escorted me to the office of that gentleman. 

We soon reached Noah's office, or " Ark ;" it was in Nassau 
street. Here Mr. Willis left me, and then I mounted a long 
flight of steps, in search of the veteran journalist. Soon did 
I find myself in the presence of the gentleman who in his own 
portly person represented the Army, the Bench, and the Press. 

He was tall, corpulent, very red in the face, and very frank 
and good-humored. No one could for a moment mistake his 
Mosaic origin, but he looked very little like that hard-working 
personage — the editor of a newspaper. Yet he had been one 
for many years, and was the first to engage a regular English 



50 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

correspondent, in the person of Dr. Robert Slielton Mackenzie, 
who I believe, is now connected with the New York Press. 

Judge Noah was one of the most sanguinely speculative of 
mankind, and he devised the strangest schemes possible. His 
last " spec " was the proposed getting up a company to pur- 
chase Grand Island, just above Niagara Falls, on which to 
found a Jewish colony, which should there await the gathering 
in of the scattered Israelites. But the 

" Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast " 

did not enter heartily into the scheme ; and Judge Noah con- 
tinued to mount, panting and perspiring, the long flight of 
office stairs, until near the time of his death, which occurred 
about five or six years ago. 

The first time I ever saw Longfellow was some eight or nine 
years since, at a Cambridge Commencement. I attended that 
gathering in the company of my excellent friend S. G. Good- 
rich, or, as he is known all over the world, " Peter Parley." 
Mr. Griswold Goodrich is, in point of personal appearance, as 
fascinating a man as you may fall in with in a summer's day. 
Tall, and of a good figure, which is unbent by years, he is a 
man of mark ; but look at his intellectual face — you cannot 
see what color the eyes are, for they are constantly shaded by 
a pair of smoked-glass spectacles — notice his Roman nose — 
his well-shaped mouth and chin, and observe the entire 
expression of the face, and you will come to the conclusion 
that Peter Parley — the beloved of boys, and the glory of girls 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 51 

— IS a remarkably attractive personage. Mr. Goodrich's 
manners are quite in keeping with his external appearance. 
He is dignified, courteous, kind, and generous-hearted. Per- 
haps the boys and girls of America, nay, of the world, have 
no truer friend than he is — certainly they never have had, 
and probably never will have, a more laborious worker for 
their best interests. 

As we stood looking at the throng of professors and stu 
dents, I observed a gentleman of a slight figure and rather 
medium stature, rapidly flitting from one point to another, 
lie was dressed in a very fiishionably made blue frock coat, 
with a velvet collar, a fancy velvet vest, and unexceptionable 
pantaloons. His face was intellectual, but not particularly so, if 
we except the eyes, which were of a beautiful blue, and very 
serene in their expression — the nose was long, perhaps too 
long, and the hair of a light brown. This was the author of 
" Evangeline." 

Since then Mr. Longfellow has grown stout, and so far has 
lost the poetical grace of figure which we are apt to couple 
with high mental qualifications. Of course I could not but 
survey him with considerable interest, for, in England, he is 
quite as popular as in his own country ; I doubt indeed, if any 
British poet, Tennyson, perhaps, excepted, enjoys so extensive 
a fame as the Cambridge professor. 

Since writing the foregoing sketch of General Morris, this 
best song-writer of America has collected his works in a 
Buperbly illustrated volume. 



b2 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



WILLIAM II. SEWARD. 

Senator Seward is the Daniel O'Connell of Ameiica; not 
in stature, for the former is petit — the latter was prodigious ; 
not in wit, for the Yankee seldom perpetrates even a pun, 
while the Irishman was a " book in breeches," and every page 
gleaming with wit; not in eloquence, for Seward requires 
preparation and speaks without much unction; O'Connell 
spoke spontaneously, and every word was a throb; not in 
faith, for the defender of the " higher law " is almost a Protes- 
tant, while the Great Agitator, as all know, was altogether a 
Catholic. Yet there is a resemblance, notwithstanding their 
dissimilarities. Seward stands at the tip top of his profession 
as a lawyer, and so did O'Connell. Seward made a sensation 
in the American Senate; O'Connell did the same in the House 
of Commons. Seward identifies himself with the party of 
Freedom. O'Connell hated slavery, and " oppression made 
that wise man mad." Seward is charged witb demagogueism. 
O'Connell made himself all things to all men, that he might 
gain some. Seward has won the sympathies of the masses, 
and is the pet of the liberty-loving people of the North_ 
O'Connell was the idol of Ireland, and his memory will ever 
live in the hearts of his countrymen. Seward is dreaded as 
much by the Old Hunkers of this country, as O'Connell waa 



I 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 53 

teared by tyrant tories of Great Britain. Seward split th« 
Whig party ; so did O'Connell. Seward is a practical tem- 
perance man ; O'Connell was a pledged tee-totaller. Seward 
would like to be President of the United States ; O'Connell 
desired to be King of Ireland. Seward is a great man among 
great men. He is not so volcanic as Benton — not so logical 
as Webster — not so eloquent as Clay — not so brittle as Foote 
— not so jovial as Hale ; but he can write a better letter than 
any of them. A little from his pen will go a gi'eat distance 
and keep a long time. ITis classic style, his earnest air, his 
truthful manner, his uncommon sense, his perfect self-control, 
his thorough knowledge of the leading questions of the day, 
compel the attention and admiration of the hearer. He is 
never timid, never tame, never squeamish, never vulgar, never 
insulting. He is independent without egotism, modest with- 
out subserviency, dignified without pomposity, and sociable 
without affectation. 

We need look back but a few months to find much to 
admire in the character of Seward. See him rise in the 
Senate Chamber, and hear him defend the rights of humanity 
in an atmosphere of opposing influences. There sits the 
imperious Clay, with flushed face, and flashing eyes — and the 
Great Expounder, with pouting lip and brow of thunder ; and 
fiery Foote, phosphorescent with excitement ; and philosophi- 
cal Cass, as placid as though the Union was not in danger. 
He (Seward) drops a word in defence of the higher law, and 
forthwith there is " ground and lofty tumbling." The enraged 
Senators appear to think that regard for the Commandments 



54 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

is an insult to the Constitution — that reverence for the Deit^ 
is " renegadism " from duty. So they examine the elements 
Df nature, analyze the facts in history, and pervert the truths 
of the Bible, to prove that we ought to obey men rather than 
to obey God. Had Seward been an ordinary man, he would 
have been swamped amid the storm ; but he remained firm 
as a rock in the midst of that stormy sea, and gave proof, that, 
although minimum in person, he was maximum in power. 
Their impotent threats could no more shake his resolution, 
than a pinch of snuff could make him sneeze (excuse the 
homely illustration) for the former went in at his ears almost as 
frequently as the latter does into his nostrils. 

Governor Seward, as he is called, is a little past the prime 
of life, somewhat under the common stature, has a very large 
head, with a few gray hairs playing hide and seek amid the 
mass of light brown ; he has blue eyes, a small forehead, a 
long nose, and a patrician mouth. He is well to do in the 
world, happy in his domestic relations, enjoys a good reputation, 
and his star is still in the ascendant. 

The Speeches and Letters of W. H. Seward have been pub 
lished recently, and the reader is referred to them for specimens 
of his eloquence. Here is a mere mouthful. 

" Yes sir, it is a complete, not an imperfect power. It is a 
power over the District, equal to any authority which can be 
exercised by any Legislature of any ' State in the Union,' or 
by any Legislature of any State or nation ' in the world.'' 
It is a power described in the philosophy of Government aa 



OFF-HANU TAKINGS. 5£ 

* summum inqierium, summo modo'' — a power, witliin the 
region of its exercise, complete, absolute, universal. Now, 
everv Legislature in this Union, every sovereign authority in 
the world, has the power to abolish slavery. More than half 
the States in this Union have abolished or prohibited it. 
France, England, and Mexico, have abolished and prohibited 
it. Congress can do, in the District of Columbia, what they 
have done within their respective dominions. 

" I dwell upon this point only a moment longer. Slavery 
within the District of Columbia exists only by the action of 
Congress. Instead of pursuing the argument further, to prove 
that Congress has the power to make a, free man, I demand 
proof that Congress possesses the power to make a slave^ or 
hold a man in bondage. 

"All the other points which have been raised, apply, not to 
the merits of the proposition for emancipation, but only to the 
form and manner of carrying it into effect. Such were the 
objections raised by my honorable and esteemed friend fi'om 
Connecticut [Mr. Baldwin], and my no less honorable and 
esteemed friend from Massachusetts [Mr. Winthrop]. It 
will be seen at once, that these objectors concede that the 
principle of the measure is right. Nevertheless, without 
holding those gentlemen to this concession, but leaving them 
to judge and act for themselves, I shall be content to reply to 
them, so far as only to vindicate the plan of emancipation 
f.mbodied in the amendment. What, then, is the form, and 
what the manner proposed ? The amendment declares that 
slavery shall for ever cease in the District of Columbia, and 



56 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

that all persons held in bondage therein when the act shall j^c 
into eifect shall be free. It directs the Secretary of the Inte- 
rior to pay the damages which any person holding slaves 
within the District shall incur by reason of its passage, and it 
appropriates two hundred thousand dollars as a fund for that 
purpose. The amendment further provides for an election, in 
which the qualified and competent citizens of the District shall 
express their approbation or disapprobation of the act. If thfiy 
disapprove, it shall be void and of no effect. 

"I submit, sir, in the first place, that the plan is adequate. 
It will secure the abolition of slavery within the District, if it 
obtain the consent of those who are most particularly con- 
cerned in the question. I have not learned from either of my 
honorable friends that he is in fiivor of emancipating the 
slaves without the consent of the people in the District, and 
we have all heard other honorable Senators insist upon tli;it 
consent as indispensable. I do not insist upon it for myself. 
I have only surrendered so much to their objections ; but if a 
majority of the Senate should waive the objection, it would 
give me pleasure to modify the plan accordingly. 

" Secondly, the plan is an equal one. While it restores to 
the slave the inestimable right of freedom, it awards to him 
who, by authority of Congress, has hitherto held the slave in 
bondage, a just remuneration and indemn' ty for his loss. It 
is then, adequate and equal. 

" Speaking for myself alone, and imputing no prejudice and 
no injustice to others, I may be allowed to remark that the abo- 
lition of slavery anywhere seems to me a just and wise policy 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 57 

provided it can be effected without producing injury outweigh 
iuo- its benefits. Opposition to emancipation in the Dis 
trict of Columbia, therefore, seemed to me to be a bad cause 
and it is the nature of a bad cause to betray itself. I lid 
not mistake, then, in supposing that the opposition which my 
proposition would encounter would prove its best vindication. 

" Influenced by these considerations, I shall not now address 
myself to the broad merits of the question, but shall be con- 
tent with simply adverting to the points which have been 
made during the present debate. The fii-st point was made 
by the honorable Senator from Georgia [Mr. Dawson], with 
the concurrence of some other Senators, and consisted in the 
improper or bad motives which they saw fit to impute to the 
author of the measure. Sir, the great instructor in the art of 
reasoning (Lord Bacon) teaches that it is better always to an- 
swer to the ' matter ' of an adversary than to his ' person.' The 
imputation of motives does not come within that rule, and 
therefore it falls at my feet. The measure I have submitted is 
either right or wrong. If right, no unworthiness of motivo 
of mine can detract from its merits ; if wrong, no purity of 
motive can redeem it. 

" The second point is that which has been so fully answered 

by the honorable and distinguished Senator from Kentucky 

[Mr. Clay], viz. that Congress has no power to abolish 

slavery in the District of Columbia. I find that power in the 

Constitution, and it is defined by these words : ' To exerciso 

exclusive lemslation in all cases whatsoever over such districL 

not exceeding ten miles square, as may, by cession of parties 

3* 



58 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

ular States, and tlie acceptance of Congress, become tlie seat 
of Government of the United States.' 

" The District of Columbia is that district not exceeding ten 
miles square. It has become the seat of the Government of 
the United States by cession of the State of Maryland, accept- 
ed by Congress. It is of the very nature of the power that it 
is 'exclusive,' and applies 'to all cases whatsoever,' whenever the 
district becomes, in the manner defined, the seat of the Gov- 
ernment of the United States. This, I think, is a conclusive 
answer to the argument of the honorable Senator from Ken- 
tucky, that it is limited by an implied understanding that it 
should not be exercised to abolish slavery. Neither could the 
State of Maryland make nor could the United States yield 
such a reservation. 

"An exclusive power is that power which is j^ossessed and 
may be exercised independently of all other sovereignties on 
earth. Congress, then, having 'exclusive power,' has abso- 
lute sovereignty, unless cases be excepted in which it shall not 
be exercised. But such exceptions are excluded by the broad 
expression, ' in all cases whatsoever.' " 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 59 



EDWARD EVERETT. 

The first time the writer liad the pleasure to see and heal 
the distinguished gentleman, whose name is at the head of 
this sketch, was soon after the death of John Quincy Adams. 
Faneuil Ilall, the famous cradle of liberty, was filled with the 
wealth and beauty of Boston — for it had been announced 
through the medium of the newspaper press, that Edward 
Everett was expected to deliver the euology on the death of 
the much lamented ex-president. At the appointed time, the 
orator commenced his discourse, and delivered it with that 
courtly grace and noble dignity, for which he is so celebrated. 
So thoroughly had he committed every sentence and every 
syllable to memory, he did not once refer to his notes, which 
lay unrolled before him. Like every production from his 
polished pen, it was smooth, elegant, beautiful, and classical. 
There was nothing new iu it, nothing brilliant, no lofty 
poetry, no profomid philosophy, and yet there was a silvery 
vein of subtle reflection running through it, but the channel 
through which it flowed, had evidently been dug with a 
golden spade, for it lacked the original convolutions of 
nature ; there was too much uniformity in sloping the banks, 
and scooping the vales, and rounding the hills. 

Mr. Everett's writings and speeches are models of correct 
composition ; the grammatical construction is faultless, the 



60 CBATON SKETCHES, AND 

punctuation perfect, the arrangement accurate. His ideas, 
like their author, are neatly dressed, and never appear before 
the public in dishabille. His badinage is so polite, no one 
can be offended; his sarcasm so refined, it never leaves a 
scratch upon the thinest cuticle ; his wit so genteel, it would 
be vulgar not to smile at its exquisite finish. With more 
courage and less fastidiousness, he would be the Addison of 
America ; indeed he is the only man entitled to that appella- 
tion. 

You may look and listen in vain for wild sallies of mother- 
wit, or fierce invective, or exuberant passion. All the crooked 
lines must be straightened, all the rough ledges must be 
smoothed down in his pages, or woe betide the unlucky 
printer. His drawing-room declamation, his elegant theoriz- 
ing, his gentlemanly deportment, have made him immensely 
popular with the aristocracy of America, for he is emphati- 
cally a Yankee patrician, with vast scholarship, a handsome 
face and figure, and an immense fortune, indispensable 
requisites in those who would secure and retain the good 
opinion of our Massachusetts marquises, Vermont viscounts, 
Delaware dukes, and Louisiana lords. Mr. Everett lacks 
vigor, because he is afraid of being vulgar ; he lacks origi- 
nality, because he dare not be unfashionable. He is destined 
to live in peace and die in peace, but his works will not 
follow hhn to the same repose. They will live for aye. 

When his friends prepared him for the pulpit, they should 
have urffcd him to embrace the Univcrsalist faith, for he is 
too pleasant and polite to send any unfortunate victim to thai 



OFF-HAND Takings. 61 

place not found on modern maps of geography, but which is 
considered by some to be much warmer than the West 
Indies. 

After examining the most objectionable features in the 
literary efforts of this learned divine and experienced states- 
man, it will be unjust not to look at his excellencies. He is 
certainly an agreeable and amiable gentleman, whose moral 
character i* without a stain. Kind and generous to the poor, 
ready to assist the imfortunate, and sympathize with the 
afflicted. When at the Court of St. James, he did not belit- 
tle the nation he represented by apeing the aristocracy of 
England. The charge of snob-ism cannot be sustained 
against him, for he did not disfigure his noble person, by 
wearing the bespangled and vulgar uniform of court ; but 
like an honest, and, we trust, true-hearted American, he was 
satisfied with the plain dress of a republican citizen. How 
unbecoming in the political minister of a young republic, to 
attire himself in the gew-gaws of royalty, with a sword 
dangling at his side. Let Austria, and Russia, and France, 
indulge in such theatrical tomfoolery if they can afford it, 
but let America, at home and abroad, in speech and deed, 
dress and address, ever maintain the doctrine of fraternity, 
liberty, equality, and republican simplicity. Let the old 
driveling nations, now in their dotage, see that America has 
no inclination to copy their mistakes for the sake of their 
transitory magnificence. In this country, every subject is a 
sovereign, and we acknowledge no hereditary titles, no aris- 
tocracy, save that d' genius and goodness. 



62 CRATON SKETCHES, AND 

Mr. Everett is an orator, and, were it not for tlie dignified 
stiffness, to wliich I have already alluded, lie would be an elo- 
quent orator. There is no speaker in this country whose 
gesticulation is so unexceptionable, not one who combines 
such solid learning with such a graceful delivery, when he 
forgets "propriety" in the momentary glow of passion. 
How the masses rush to the pulpit or the platform to hear 
him speak ! With what readiness do the people of all parties 
appreciate the best utterances contained in his addresses ! 

It was while delivering a lecture at Worcester, he called 
attention to the learned Blacksmith, and Elihu Burritt has 
been famous ever since that time. 

I have said elsewhere, that his speeches are barren of 
poetry — by that I mean, he never soars to the heaven of 
poetic eloquence. He has delicate fancy, but is deficient ill 
imagination. 

Here is a specimen of his verse making : — 

"When I am dead, no pageant train 

Shall waste their sorrows at my bier, 

Nor worthless pomp of homage vain 
Stain it with hypocritic tear, 

For I will die as I did live, 

Nor take the boon I cannot give. 

" Ye shall not raise a marble bust 
Upon the spot where I repose, 
Ye shall not fawn before my dust — 
In hollow circumstance of woes, 



OKK-IIAND TAKINGS. C3 

Nor sculptured clay with lying breath, 
Lisult the clay that moulds beneath. 

" Ye shall not pile with servile toil 
Your monuments upon my breast, 
Nor yet within the common soil, 

Lay down the wreck of power to rest, 
Where man can boast that he has trod. 
On him that was the ' scourge of God ' 

" But ye, the mountain stream shall turn, 
And lay its secret channel bare. 
And hollow for your sovereign's urn — 
A resting-place for ever there." 

The above is part of a poem, entitled " Alaric the Visi- 
goth," who stormed and spoiled the city of Rome, and waa 
afterwards buried in the channel of the river Busentius. 

Mr. Everett seldom startles the reader with a paradox, 
rarely assails any popular idol, never sneers at a rival. It is 
evident that he writes with the expectation of being read by 
future generations, or he would not finish his sentences, and 
round his periods in such strict accordance with the rules of 
rhetoric, and with such a lavish display of erudition, and such 
fastidious nicety in selecting his quotations. He takes the 
place of Webster, but he cannot fill it. He has not that 
elephantine force, that ponderous logic, that masculine energy, 
and that ofi'-hand readiness, which so pre-eminently character- 
ized the mighty Daniel. He is, however, a man of more 
refined accomplishments, has more scholarship, has a better 



C4 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

acquaintance with general literature than his great predeces 
sor. In comparing him with those who were and those who 
are his associates, I should say, he is more polished than 
Webster, more classical than Cass, more graceful than Ben- 
ton, more learned than Calhoun, more elegant than Clay. 

Not long since, I saw him in the senate chamber, at 
Washington ; he was revising the smooth speech which he 
delivered a short time before the senate adjourned. It was as 
full of flattering compliments as a Christmas jiudding is of 
plums. 

Mr. Everett is about sixty years of age ; erect as a liberty- 
pole, of perfect mould, pale features, blue eyes, towering brow, 
hair turning grey, mouth and chin finely cut ; in a word, 
his face indicates the scholar and the gentleman he is. He 
dresses richly, fashionably, not foppishly, and looks like a 
lord. 

The extracts with which we conclude our sketch of Mr. 
Everett, are from a speech, delivered at Plymouth, on the 
3d of August, 1853. 

MR. Everett's speech. 

" You, Mr. President, have been good enough to intimate 
that among our numerous honored guests, to whom your com 
plimentary remarks might have applied with equal justice as 
to myself, with possibly a single exception, that I am the indi- 
vidual to whom you look to respond to the toast whi(.-h has 
just been announced. I rise to obey your call. It is true, 
that there is a single circumstance by which it is possible that 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 65 

the allusion may have been more exclusively applied to me 
than any other gentleman present, for it is most true that on 
one pleasant occasion on which I have been at this delightful 
and beloved Plymouth, I have suggested that it might be 
expedient, not always, but occasionally, to transfer the cele- 
bration of the great day from the winter to the summer 
season. Supposing that to be the allusion which you had in 
your mind, I feel that I may, without impropriety, obey your 
call in rising to respond to the toast that has just been given. 
" It is now hard upon thirty years since I had the honor, on 
the 2 2d December, to address the sons and daughters of the 
Pilgrims, assembled in this place. I deemed it a peculiar 
privilege and an honor. I deem it, sir, a still greater honor 
to find myself here on this joyous occasion, and to be permit- 
ted to participate in this happy festival, where we have an 
attendance of so many distinguished friends and fellow citi- 
zens from distant parts of the Union — from almost every state 
in the Union, sir, you have already told us — where we are 
favored with the company of the representatives of the New 
England Society of New York, one of those institutions 
which are carrying the name and the principles of the Pil- 
giims to the farthest ends of the Union ; where we are 
gratified with the company of our military friends from the 
same city, the great commercial emporium of the United 
States ; where we are honored with the presence of sc 
much of the gravity, the dignity, and the character of the 
community ; and where we are favored with the presence of 
BO much of beauty, of grace, and of loveliness. (Applause.) 



66 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

" A few days ago, as I saw in the newspapers, two light 
birch-bark canoes appeared in Boston harbor, containing each 
a solitary Indian. They seemed, as they approached, to gaze 
in silent wonder at the city of the triple hills, rising street 
above street, and crowned with the dome of the State House, 
and at the long line of villas stretching far into the back 
ground ; at the numerous tall vessels outward bound, as tliey 
dropped down the channel and spread their broad wings to 
the breeze, and those which were returning weather-beaten 
from the ends of the earth ; at the steamers dashing in every 
direction across the harbor, breathing volumes of smoke from 
their fiery lungs. They paddled their frail barks with dex- 
terity and speed through this strange, busy, and to them, no 
doubt, bewildering scene ; and having made the circuit of 
East Boston, the Navy Yard, the city itself, and South Bos- 
ton, dropped down with the current, and disappeared among 
the islands. 

" There was not a human being of kindred blood to utter a 
word of welcome to them, in all the region, which on the day 
we now commemorate was occupied by their forefathers in 
Massachusetts. The race is gone. It would be a mistaken 
sentimentality to regret the change; to regret that some 
thousand uncultured barbarians — destitute of all the impi-ove- 
ments of social life, and seemingly incapable of adopting 
tliem, should have yielded gradually to the civilized millions 
who have taken their place. But we must, both as men and 
as Christians, condemn whatever of oppression and wrong has 
marked the change (as is too apt always to be the case, when 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 67 

strong and weak are brought into contact with each other), 
and without affectation we may indulge a heartfelt sympatij 
for the feeble and stricken relics of once powerful and formid* 
able tribes of fellow men. 

***** 

"The discovery itself of the American continent may, I 
think, be fairly considered the most extraordinary event in the 
history of the world In this, as in other cases, familiarity 
blunts the edge of our perceptions; but, much as I have 
meditated, and often as I have treated this theme, its magni- 
tude grows upon me with each successive contemplation. 
That a continent nearly as large as Europe and Africa united 
— spread out on both sides of the equator, — lying between 
the western shores of Europe and Africa and the eastern 
shore of Asia — with groups of islands in either ocean, as it 
were, stopping-places on the march of discovery ; — a conti- 
nent not inhabited indeed by civilized races, but still occupied 
by one of the families of rational man, — that this great hemi- 
sphere, I say, should have laid undiscovered for five thousand 
years upon the bosom of the deep, — a mystery so vast, within 
so short a distance, and yet not found out, is indeed a marvel. 
Mute nature, if I may so express myself, had made the dis- 
covery to the philosopher, for the preponderance of land in 
the eastern hemisphere demanded a counterpoise in tho 
west. 

" Dark-wooded trees had drifted over the sea and told of 
the tropical forests where they grew. Stupendous ocean cur- 
rents, driven westward by the ever-breathing trade-winds, had 



68 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

wheeled their mighty flexures along the American coast, and 
returned to Europe with tidings of the everlasting break- 
waters which had stopped their way. But the fullness of 
time had not yet come. Egypt and Assyria, and Tyre and 
Carthage, and Greece and Rome, must flourish and fall, 
before the seals are broken. The ancient civilization must be 
weighed in a balance and found wanting. Yes, and more. 
Nature must unlock her rarest mysteries ; the quivering steel 
must learn to tremble to the pole ; the astrolabe must climb 
the arch of heaven ; science must demonstrate the spheroidity 
of the earth, which the ancients suspected but could not 
prove ; the press must scatter the flying rear of mediaeval 
darkness ; the creative instincts of a new political, intellec- 
tual, and social life must begin to kindle into action ; and 
then the great Discoverer may go forth. 

" He does go forth. The discovery is made ; the balance of 
the globe is redressed. A continent nearly equal in extent to 
one-half the ancient hemisphere is brought to light. What 
momentous questions present themselves ! Another world 1 
Is it a twin sister of the ancient world ? It has mountains, 
and rivers, and lakes, and forests ; but does it contain the 
homes of man ? of cultivated races, who have pursued, inde- 
pendently of their Eastern brethren, separate, perhaps higher 
paths of civilization ? In a word, has the great cause of 
humanity, made an immediate gain by the wonderful event 
which has added so much to the geography of the world, as 
before known 1 

"The first contact answered these great questions in the 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 69 

negative. The native races, — apparently incapable of assimi- 
lation, — seemed doomed by a mysterious Providence to pass 
away. Tlie Spaniard came upon them, borne on winged mon 
sters, as they thought, from beyond the sea; careering on 
strange quadrupeds, horse and rider, as they supposed, form- 
ing but one animal, and he advanced under cover of that 
fearful ordnance which they confounded with the three-bolted 
artillery of the skies; he came in all these terrors, and he 
brought them death. 

" Those that escaped have borrowed little from us but the 
poisoned cup — the loathsome malady — the murderous Aveapon. 
The skies are mild, the soil is fertile, there is every variety of 
climate, — a boundless theatre for human enjoyment and action, 
— but the appointed agent was not there. Over the greater 
part of the new-found continent, society, broken down by 
eternal wars between neighboring tribes, — at once in its de- 
crepitude and infancy, — had not yet risen even to the pastoral 
stage. Nature, in fact, had not bestowed upon man the mute 
but faithful partners of his toil — the horse, the ox, the sheep, 
and other still humbler associates, whose aid (did we but know 
it) lies at the basis of his civilization ; — who furnish so much 
of his food and clothing — meat, milk, eggs, and wool, and 
skins, and relieve his weary muscles of their heaviest burdens. 
There is no civilized population to stand up and enter into 
equal comparison and generous rivalry with Europe. The dis- 
coverer has come ; but the settler, the colonist, the conqueror, 
ahis, that I must add, too often the oppressor and destroyer, 
are to follow in his train. By these various agencies — • 



YO CRAYON SKETCHES, AXD 

joyous and sorrowful — througli these parts of triumpli and 
woe — the culture of the old world, in the lapse of successivfc 
generations, reformed of its abuses, enriched with new arts, 
animated by a broader spirit of humanity, — transferred from 
the privileged few to the mass of the community, — is to be 
reproduced and perfected in the West. 

" I need not say to this company, assembled on the shores 
of the haven for which so many noble hearts on that terrible 
voyage throbbed with sickening expectancy — that quiet haven 
where the Mayflower furled her tattered sails — that a greater, 
a nobler work was never performed by man. Truly the opus 
magnum, the great work of humanity. You bid me speak of 
that Doi'tion of it which devolved on the Pilgrims. Would to 
Heafen I could find words to do justice even to my own poor 
conceptions, and still more that I could find conceptions not 
far below the august reality. A mighty work of improvement, 
m whicii (not to speak of what has been done in other por- 
tions 01 the continent,) the poor solitary Mayflower, so to say, 
has multiplied herself into the thousand vessels that bear tho 
flag of the Union to every sea ; has scattered her progeny 
through the land, to the number of nearly a quarter of a 
million for every individual in that drooping company of one 
hundred ; and in place of the simple compact, which was 
signed in her cabin, has exhibited to the admiration of man- 
kind a Constitution of Republican Government for all this 
growing family of prosperous States. But the work is in its 
infancy. It must extend throughout the length and breadth of 
the land ; and what is not done directly by ourselves, must ba 



done by otter governments and other races, by the light of our 
example. The work — the work must go on. It must reach, 
at the North, to the enchanted cave of the magnet, within 
never-melting barriers of Arctic ice ; it must bow to the lord 
of day on the altar-peak of Chimborazo ; it must look up 
and worship the Southern Cross. From the easternmost cliff 
on the Atlantic, that blushes in the kindling dawn, to the last 
promontory on the Pacific, which catches the parting kiss of 
the setting sun, it must make the outgoings of the morning 
and the evening to rejoice in the gladsome light of morals, 
and letters, and arts. Emperors, and kings, and parliaments 
— the oldest and the strongest governments in Europe, — must 
engage in this work, in some part or other of the continent, 
but no part of it shall be so faithfully and successfully per- 
formed as that which was undertaken on the spot whore we 
are now gathered, by the Pilgrim Fathers of New England." 



"72 CRAYON' SKETCHHS, AND 



JOHN P. HALE. 

John P. Hale is a free-and-easy, fat-and-social man, ■who 
can relish a dish of oysters, or a good joke, as well as any 
member of the Senate. He has the courage of Cromwell, and 
the fun of FalstafF. He has a strong hand at one end of his 
arm, and a strong head at the other. When he shakes the 
former, you feel a heart throbbing in the palm ; when he 
shakes the latter, it is the signal of a storm that will hail 
for the space of an hour, and every stone will be the weight 
of a talent. 

Foote may rave and foam, and threaten to hang Hale, his 
genial and generous fellow senator, on the tallest tree in 
Mississippi ; but there will be a response so apropos, so full of 
humor, from such a sunshiny countenance, the peppery Missis- 
sippian will be ashamed of his impotent imprecations. There 
is more thunder and lightning in the crack of Hale's joke, 
tlian there is punishment in the crack of Foote's pistol. The 
pungent wit of the former is more destructive than the explo- 
ding powder of the latter. The sarcasm and irony of the 
Northerner is more dreaded than the sulphur and saltpetre of 
the Southerner. The cool man of "Granite" is more than a 
match for the choleric representative of " Cotton." The small 
sword of wit cuts deeper than the bowie-knife of wrath. 




Eagra.iei'by J C Buttre. 




^^ ^^:^>^ e^^^^^'^^^ 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. "73 

Foote is a miudle-aged gentleman, with a bald head, sear face, 
shrunken limbs, and restless manners, and so ignitable, it is a 
wonder he has not caught fire and burnt up long ago. Halo 
is in the prime of life, broad shouldered, broad chested, and 
stout limbed, and he has such control over his temper, he 
never forgets to be courteous, even to those who permit 
passion to rule reason, while they sink the glorious dignity of 
the statesman to the gladiatorial level of the blackguard and 
the bully. Hale can flog the powdery senator in debate, and 
fling him out of the window of the Capitol afterwards, as 
Commodus threw Oleander out of the Roman palace. 

Foote has the most finished education. Hale the most prac- 
tical sense ; Foote has read history, and is familiar with the 
past, Hale has associated with the people, and knows the neces- 
sities of the present ; Foote understands parliamentary usages, 
Hale observes the rules of the Senate ; Foote is nervous, 
furious, and vituperative. Hale is pleasant, manly and earnest ; 
Foote has the rasping severity of Randolph, without his glow- 
ing eloquence ; the brilliancy of Lee, without his chaste 
dignity ; Hale has the self-reliance of Benton, without 
his general information. The former is a Cavalier, the 
latter a Roundhead. One would have fought to the death for 
King Charles, the other would have imited with republican 
Oliver ; one is of the South, so extreme as to be tropical, the 
other of the North, so distant as to be frigid. When that 
great Nebuchadnezzar, the Compromise Bill, Avith its bead of 
gold (without brains), its feet of Clay (without a foothold), 
was set up, Mr. Hale refused to bow before it ; consequently 



74 CRAYOJ>f SKETCHES, AND 

he was bound hand and foot, and cast into the heated furnace , 
but he came out without the smell of fire upon his garments, 
During the last session of the Senate he was like Daniel (not 
the Webster) in the lions' den, but he remained uninjured, 
although there was no angel present to keep the mouths of 
the lions closed. 

Mr. Hale is a man whose telescopic discernment enables 
him to discover danger at a distance, and when unwise or 
reckless statesmen jilot the ruin of the nation, he sends up a 
rocket so that its showers of sparks, sheet of fire, and startling 
report, may attract the attention of the people. When that 
infamous Compromise Bill was before the Senate, he frequently- 
fired an alarm gun, to warn his constituents and his country- 
men. Although he is constitutionally indolent, when his 
mercury is made to rise to the blood heat of excitement he is 
a giant, and ordinary men are like grass-hoppers in his hands. 
He has not genius to originate, neither does he display much H 
original skill ; but his words drop at the right time and in 
the right place, as the seed falls from the hands of the sower 
into the furrow. He puts new wine into old bottles, and bursts 
them. He is a man for the times, and speaks the language 
as well as the sentiments of the masses. The man bleached 
in the factory, and the man bronzed in the foundry, under- 
stand him without the aid of an interpreter. 

Mr. Hale is sociable and affable in his manner, hearty and 
pleasant in his address. He has the courage to patronize and 
defend whatever is designed to promote the welfare of the 
human race, and the firmness to remain the unfaltering friend 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 75 

of humanity. He speaks fluently and feelingly, and his style 
and sentiment are both forcible and persuasive. He is a man 
of foresight and sagacity, and keeps pace with the march of 
progress. He speaks in behalf of the African race, and pleads 
for the Abstinence cause. 

In personal appearance, Mr. Hale is a large, stout man, 
somewhat inclined to corpulency ; has a full, healthy, rosy 
face ; dark hair, touched with frost ; blue eyes, beaming with 
mirthfulnoss ; an ample chest swelling with a generous heart, 
and shoulders strong enough to bear the cross of his party. 

We cannot resist the temptation to insert the following 
graphic sketch from the ready pen of Mrs. Swisshelm : 

" Hale is just as he looks in the Senate there. He has the 
greatest amount of droll humor and sly sarcasm that ever fell 
to the lot of one man ; but our opinion of him is, that the 
^ basis of his character is combativeness and firmness. Let any 
one walk up the pave behind him, and notice the way he sets 
down his foot ! Every step says, ' there ;' and there he is. 
"When he has taken a position he will keep it, because he 
took it for no other purpose. Attempts to drive him thence 
will only fasten him down. Rouse the lion in him, and you 
may kill, but never conquer him. Opposition is the most 
powerful incentive to action. He loves an antagonistic posi- 
tion for the sake of its antagonism, and the reason he is so 
perfectly good-humored while contending most obstinately, is, 
that strife affords the most ample scope for his energies — 
leaves no feculty to rust. At least, that is our opinion of him, 



r6 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

^^nd we would trust our life to his stability and faithfulness, so 
long as the cause in which he labors is unpopular — very 
unpopular ; but let him take the popular side of the question, 
and he would be a very small matter. Let the cause in 
which he labors become fashionable, and it is done with John 
P. Hale. Liberty may trust him to advocate her cause so 
long as she is an outcast, and while she has desperate battles 
to fight. He will be very respectful to her ladyship, while 
other people publicly spit upon her ; but if she becomes a 
reigning princess, and crowds of courtiers kneel at her feet, he 
will either turn round with a careless fling, walk off to attend 
to some other business, without thinking to go backwards out 
of the royal presence ; or he would hide behind a pUlar of 
her majesty's palace, and shoot bits of potatoe at her out of a 
quill pop-gun. We do not believe he has a particle of vene- 
ration for anything but weakness and misfortune, or that he 
could set a high value on anything that was not very difficult 
to obtain. 

" We walked up Pennsylvania Avenue behind him one day, 
and watched him wearing the outside oflF the heels of his 
boots with his firm dogged step, as he conversed with a gen- 
tleman, turning his head on one side or the other, with an air 
of droll waggery that is almost peculiar to him, and we fancied 
we saw him, a little short-necked m-chin, in slip and pinafore, 
with his little, fat fists clenched, and every nerve strung to its 
utmost tension, fighting with a youngster in breeches, twice 
his own size, for an apple which he deemed his peculiar pro- 
perty. We watch the battle in imagination, until, with 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 77 

bloody nose and well-pulled hair, he held the prize secur<>, 
and stood looking defiance at his antagonist, and the other 
young diplomatist with a snaky eye, and assumed look of 
indifference, calling out, as if in triumph, ' He ! he ! keep 
your old apple! I didn't want it! I've got a whole 
load !' 

" There was the look of hesitation, a moment's pause, and, 
without a word, the object of contention was hurled at the 
head of the young intriguer, while John tottled ofi" in pursuit 
of something better worth having ; and perfectly satisfied with 
the result of his encounter. 

"If he has not or does not, at some time of his manhood's 
career, re-enact this imaginary childish scene, we have greatly 
mistaken him, or he has and will exercise this supreme con- 
trol of reason over natural bent, which, in this case, would be 
almost superhuman. If he does not, at some time, toss his 
fame into the face of the public, from whom he has won it, 
and start full chase after something else, ho is not the John 
P. Hale we take him to be. With him a day of pursuit is 
worth twenty of possession. Abolitionists ought not to blame 
him if he really throws up his seat in the Senate, as it is 
rumored he will. He was true to the strongest impulses of 
his nature while he stood there alone, and fought their battles. 
He is alone no longer ! It is a mooted point if he be not in 
the majority, and he has not half enough work to keep him 
busy. The very impulses that drove him into the Senate are 
now driving him out of it. He may resist them, but it will 
be an unnatural warfare, and his spirit will chafe under it. 



V8 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



If Free Soil gains a triumph in Congress, and he stays there, 
just see if his good humor is not impaired — if he does not 
grow ill-tempered for want of something with which to con- 
tend. Like Alexander, he will take sick for want of more 
worlds to conquer." 



OFF-HAJfD TAKINGS. 79 



FATHER TAYLOR. 

Such vast impressions did his sermons mal^e, 

He always Icept bis flock awalce. Db. Wolcott. 

I venerate ttie man whose heart is warm, 

Whose hands are pure, whose doctrines and whose life 

Coincident, exhibit lucid proof 

That he is honest in the sacred cause. Cowpbr. 

One Sunday morning I went to the Sailoi-s' Chapel in 
Boston, to see and hear the far-famed mariners' preacher, 
Father Taylor. lie was reading the familiar liymn which 
commences with the well-known lines, " Come, thou fount of 
every blessing," when I entered the house of worship. The 
choir wedded the words to music — the Divine blessinsf was 
invoked — a chapter was read — and. then the sixteenth verse 
of the third chapter of Colossians was selected as the basis of 
the discourse. The striking peculiarities of the eccentric and 
celebrated preacher cannot fail to attract the attention of the 
seamen and landsmen who attend his church. He rises clum- 
sily from the sofa in the pulpit, and puts his fore-finger on the 
text as though he anticipated the danger of losing it, or was 
determined to stick to it. After reading it distinctly and delilx 
erately, he is pretty sure to raise the spectacles from his eyes 
and let them rest over the organs of causality. 

Father Taylor does not ape the clerical stiffness which so 



80 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

ill-liccomes those vvlio strive to make up in dignity what they 
lack in devotion and intellect. When he walks the pulpit 
floor, like a caged lion, or pounds the desk with his fists, there 
seems to be, and doubtless is, honesty in his zeal. When he 
distorts his weather-beaten face, and swings his out-stretched 
arms about him, and shakes his lean fingers in the faces of his 
hearers, we see that he has in him the elements of a good 
actor. He is an odd genius, and I have no hesitation in affirm 
ing that he will utter more wise sayings and more sayings that 
are otherwise, in a single sermon, than any other man in Massa- 
chusetts. Not unfrequently he mixes his pathos and humor so 
evenly, the listener knows not whether to laugh or weep. One 
minute he appeals to Heaven, in a strain of sublimity that 
excites your admiration and astonishment; and the next 
moment he appeals to Mr. Foster, or some other member of 
his congregation, in a style not comporting with the idea 
most men have of the dignity of the pulpit. Now, with com- 
pressed lips, grating teeth and flashing eyes, he denounces some 
vice or some heresy, in words steeped in a solution of brim- 
stone ; and then, with a smiling countenance, upturned eyes, 
and outspread hands, he lavishes encomiums on hope, faith, 
love, virtue, piety. Now he pours out a torrent of adjectives, 
as though he resolved to exhaust the vocabulary ; then follows 
a stream of nouns, from his unfailins: Cochituate of lanoruajre, 
His sermons are ornamented with gems of poetry. 

The following extracts from the sermon I heard a week or 
two since, will give the reader a tolerable idea of his matter ; 
his manner is unreportable, for he is the Booth of the Boston 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 81 

pulpit. "Some men," said he, "will lie for a glass of grog, and 
some women will lie for a cup of tea, K God respects some 
sinners more than others, there will be a back hole in hell for 
liars." " Who are so low, vile, mean, hateful, as the wholesale 
dealers and the retail pedlars in lies ?" He prefaced a quo- 
tation from Proverbs with these words: "Solomon was a 
wise old fellow, although he had strange notions about somo 
things." Speaking of backsliders, he observed : " They slide 
by moonshining and deceiving themselves." He ridiculed, 
with bitter severity, the Oratorios of the present day; said that 
"profane lips dared to imitate the groans of Christ upon the 
cross. Infidels, with instruments of music, endeavored to show 
the sufferings of the Saviour in the garden — the driving of the 
nails, the dripping of the blood upon the accursed tree — and 
they mimicked the blast of the angel's trumpet." It was 
an eloquent and just rebuke to those who trifle with sacred 
things. 

Father Taylor is a plain-looking man, and his bronzed face 
is strongly marked. He is now in the sunset of life, and his 
head is thickly sprinkled with grey hairs. When excited, his 
voice is harsh, and conveys the impression to the mind, that 
the "man behind it" hates the devil more than he loves Jesus. 
He is volcanic, and is often guided more by impulse than by 
intellect. Although he is in the autumn of his years, he can 
perform more service, endure more hardship, and preach 
better sermons, than half the young preachers of the present 
day. 



4* 



82 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. 

No one at all acquainted with the political history of the 
United States, will deny the fact that John C. Calhoun, was 
one of the distinguished few whose voices penetrated every 
portion of our country. His bold and sententious and 
condensed utterances were also echoed in other lands, and 
excited indignation and admiration everywhere. The lovers 
of univei-sal liberty admired his genius, while they deplored 
his course in the council chamber of state. Earnestly, 
eloquently, and perseveringly did he labor, in season and out 
of season, to defend and perpetuate slavery. Unlike such 
men as Jefferson, Randolph, Henry, and Clay, he regarded 
human slavery as an invaluable blessing — promoting the 
welfare of society, advancing the prosperity of the nation, 
and perpetuating the free institutions of the Republic — while 
they, on the contrary, declared involuntary servitude an 
unmitigated curse — impairing our social happiness, hampering 
the welfare of our common country, and threatening the 
stability of our free institutions. 

John C. Calhoun was a sectional senator — South Carolina 
was so vast in his eye, he could never look beyond its 
boundaries. He legislated and labored in his study and in 
the senate, not for the good of the United States, but for the 
protection and prosperity of South Carolina. That state was 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 83 

all the world to him, and he knew no North, no East, no 
West. 

It is astonishing that any man, ha\-ing such breadth of 
character, and such depth of intellect, did not have 
more comprehensive views — Webster went for our coun- 
try, however bounded — Winthrop for our country, right 
or wrong, but Calhoun went for South Carolina — for her 
men, her laws, her institutions, and her slaves. He 
toiled during a life-time, to persuade the world, that 
slavery was not an infringement on the rights of man. 
He was aware that it paid no respect to the institution of 
marriage, and made every cabin liable to become a brothel. 
He knew that whips, and chains, and yokes, and thumbscrews, 
and bloodhounds, were some of the accompaniments of such 
a state of society, yet he defended it. He knew that it 
separated husband from wife, and child from parent, and 
consigned three millions of human beings to stripes, and 
sorrow, and premature death ; yet he demanded its everlasting 
perpetuation. William Lloyd Garrison, speaking, said of him, 
with characteristic vigor, soon after Calhoun made an able 
speech in the senate : " There is no blood in him — he is as 
cold as a corpse. Ho is made of iron, not flesh ; he is 
liybridous, not natural." Having seen the most forbidding 
side of the picture, let us do him and ourselves the justice to 
look at the favorable side. He was a consistent man, there 
was no two-facedness, no double-heartedness, no dough in 
the composition of his nature. Whichever way the wind 
might blow — whatever course the flood might take — he waa 



8t CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

the saiie unfaltering and invincible advocate of sla\ery 
There was no chicanery, no humbug, no hoisting of false 
colors, no underhandedness in his course. He made the 
auction block his platform, and there he sounded the bugle 
blast in the ear of the nation, and acknowledged that he was 
the champion of chattel slavery. No electioneering tricks, 
no flattering nominations, no log rolling, no wire pulling, no 
efforts of friends, no party considerations ; nothing contained 
in the exchequer, could cause him to swerve a single hair, for 
a single moment, from his straightforward course. 

He was frank ; his votes, and speeches, and eiforts were 
open and above board. He never dodged, never failed to 
commit himself when an opportunity was presented to show 
his hand ; and never wore the white feather when assailed by 
his fellow senators. He was personally a virtuous man, 
honest in his dealings (save with his slaves, he never paid 
them), sober (except when intoxicated with excitement, in 
defending slavery), chaste (his plantation was undoubtedly 
like others). I say, personally, he was a brave, honest, frank, 
chaste, and virtuous man. He had an active organization, 
and his fiery temperament made him an injudicious and 
unsafe counsellor, although his intellect was mightier than his 
impulses. When his head and heart were cool, he was 
generally right on all subjects, save one. He was a man of 
unbounded ambition, inflexible dignity, and great weight of 
character ; besides, he was wilful in his resolutions and 
Indomitable in his perseverance. He had wonderful self-pos- 
session, and plenty of assurance for a score of ordinary men ; 



OKK-HAND TAKINGS. 85 

Bomo say he had a better balanced head than either of his 
great compeers ; that his judgment was more correct, and hia 
views more consistent than theirs. It is certain he was 
distinguished for clearness of conception, copiousness of logic, 
and appropriateness of illustration. His speeches are more 
remarkable for condensed logic, than luminous ornament. 
He had the vehemence of Clay, without his bonhommie ; the 
terseness of Benton, without his humanity ; the philosophy of 
Cass, without his double-dealing. If he was not so colossal as 
Webster, he was a closer reasoner, and his transparent 
earnestness won the admiration of those who were indiff- 
nant at his doctrines ; indeed, men of all parties, and in all parts 
of the country, entertained but one opinion respecting the 
consistency of John C. Calhoun. 

He was not a man of universal acquirements, although he 
understood jurisprudence, mathematics, modern history, gene- 
ral literature, the classic languages, and politics. The peculiar 
features for which he is noted, are his practical and subtle 
reasoning powers, his intuitive gifts of perception, and hia 
magnetic influence over his associates and friends. In public, 
he spoke in a tone approximating to autocratic authority 
(excuse the alliteration). Occasionally he was vehement as a 
cataract; at i?uch times he did not curb his passions, nor 
restrain his invective, but dashed right on with lightning in 
his eyes, and thunder on his lips ; now tearing a bit of 
sophistry to shreds ; now laboring an argument fused in the 
fire of his eloquence ; now lifting the veil from the goddess of 
Liberty, to show his auditors her face, then uttering sentiments 



Sff CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

that might make the busts of Washington, and Adams, and 
Madison blush with shame. On, on, he dashed, with the 
rapidity of a race-horse, out-speeding the swiftest reporters — 
saying more words in a given time, than any other man. 
Wit is a weapon too small for our Hercules to wield ; poetry 
is not practical enough for him ; besides, slavery detests 
poetry, and cannot boast a single stanza in its defence ; pathos 
he has not ; but he has philosophy, history, argument, facts, 
at his fingers' ends, and he uses them as they were never used 
before, for he is the only prominent man who in any age, in 
any land plead for slavery as a blessed institution, to bo 
sustained at all hazards, for the social and political welfare of 
the world. What a paradoxical man was the great Calhoun j 
yet he was idolized by the South Carolinians, and they would 
have been willing to have crowned the great Nullifier their 
king, and then they would have become his dutiful subjects. 

A word or two respecting his personal appearance must 
conclude this sketch. 

Mr. Calhoun was a tall, thin, straight, wiry man, with 
sharp angular features ; hair, originally black, but turned 
quite grey before he died. It was coarse, and bristled up in 
the most combative manner imaginable, and trespassed on 
that part of the forehead which is usually bare, consequently, 
some persons, unacquainted with the science of phrenology, 
have quoted his peculiar formation of head, as evidence 
against its doctrines. Doctor Lyman Beecher, the grandfather 
of Uncle Tom, and the father of the temperance enterprise, is 
another i istance of this nature, which has been used by the 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 



87 



sceptical in the same way ; whereas the doctor has a 
magnificent head, well balanced, and large at the right 
points, t«) make him the blessed, good man he is. Excuse 
this digression, I have a vagrant pen, and I have neither bit 
nor bridle in its nib this evening. I have the impression that 
Calhoun was of the nervous, bilious temperament, perhaps 
the bilious predominated. He had great vital and great 
muscular as well as great mental power. Great as was the 
reputation of Calhoun, it did not equal his ability. He had 
brain and bone enough to sustain himself in almost any 
contest. An author who had frequently seen him and heard 
him speak in Washington, says, " I do not now remember to 
have met an organization of greater power, during all my 
visits at Washington. Webster had more vital power, and 
perhaps, as much muscular, but not as much mental. 
Calhoun's head was not as large as Webster's, though it was 
decidedly large. On a great occasion, Webster was decidedly 
the greatest man ; but under all circumstances, and when his 
powers were not wrought up and brought out by some 
powerful stimulus, he was probably not so great. In matters 
of detail and practical affairs, Calhoun, probably excelled; 
but for profound argument. Constitutional questions, conduct- 
ing great matters, &c., Webster had the best developments. 
Still the powerful, the impressive, the forcible, the deep, and 
the efficient, are the prevailing characteristics of both. 
Calhoun's organization combines tremendous powers with 
great activity ; these two conditions are rarely united in any 
one man to as great a degi-ee. He was indeed a great man. 



88 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

Clay's reputation was equal to his talents, which were of a 
brilliant, showy order. Not so with those of Calhoun. He 
was all that he was supposed to be. * * * * 

" It is doubtful if there was a higher forehead in 
Washington. Clay's appeared larger, for the hair retired in 
him ; but the development of his reasoning organs was, 
indeed, immense, especially comparison." In alluding to the 
fact, that Mr. Calhoun's hair " grew lower down on his fore- 
head," he observes, "The fact, that the hair grew on the 
reasoning organs, does not affect either size or power, for it ia 
as easy to think through the hair as without it." 

With the following specimens of his speech-making, I 
conclude this article. 



EXTRACTS FROM THE SPEECH OF JOHN C. CALHOUN, IN THE 
SOUTHERN CAUCUS, 1848. 

* * * "I consider the address indispensable. Whatever 
action is taken must proceed from the slaveholding states. 
If the Constitution be violated, and their rights encroached 
upon, it is for them to determine the mode and measure of 
redress. We can only suggest and advise. We are in the 
theatre of action, the witnesses of the alarming encroach- 
ments which have been going on upon the rghts of the 
slaveholding part of the Confederacy. We see them plainly, 
we feel them deeply. They are rapid and alarming ; for Avho 
would have believed, even three years ago, that j^reparations, 
which have within a few days past commanded the support 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 89 

of a majority of the Lower house of Congress, would have 
been tolerated by any respectable portion of either house ? 

" We are in the midst of events scarcely of less import than 
those of our revolutionary era. The question is, are we to 
liold our position in this Confederacy upon the ground of 
equals, or are we to content ourselves with the position of 
Colonial Dependence ? Sir, it would be worse than Colonial 
Dependence. For who would not prefer to be taxed and 
governed without pretence of representation, than, under the 
form of representation, to be greviously oppressed by measures 
over which we have no control, and against which our 
remonstrances are unavailing? 

" It is undeniable, that encroachments upon our rights have 
been rapid and alarming. They must be met. I conceive, 
that no Southern man can entertain, for one moment, the 
idea of tame submission. 

" The action of the South should be united, temperate, but 
decided. Our position must be taken deliberately, but held 
at every hazard. We wage no war of aggression. We ask 
only for the Constitution, and Union, and government of our 
fathers. We ask our Northern brethren to leave us those 
rights and privileges which our fathers held, and without 
Bocuring which for their children, all know they would not 
have entered into this Union. These we must maintain. 

" It appears to me proper that we, who are on the theatre 
of action, should address our constituents of the slaveholding 
states ; briefly and accurately portray the progress of usurpa^ 
tion and aggression, vividly exhibit the dangers which 



90 CUAYON SKETCHES, AND 

threaten, and leave it in their hands to mark out the propel 
time of action. 

" What that should be, it is needless here to discuss. 
Whatever it is, it should be temperate, united, and decided." 



EXTRACTS FROM JOHN 0. CALHOUn's SPEECH ON THE 
SLAVERY QUESTION IN THE SENATE, MARCH 4, 1850, 



* * * " But will the North agree to this ? It is for her to 
answer this question. But I will say slie cannot refuse, if she 
has half the love for the Union which she professes to have, 
or without justly exposing herself to the charge that her 
love of power and aggrandizement is far greater than her love 
of the Union. At all events, the responsibility of saving the 
Union is on the North and not the South. The South cannot 
save it by any act of hers, and the North may save it without 
any sacrifice whatever, unless to do justice and to perform 
her duties under the Constitution be regarded by her as a 
sacrifice. It is time, senators, that there should be an open 
and manly avowal on all sides as to what is intended to be 
done. If the question is not now settled, it is uncertain 
whether it ever can hereafter be ; and we, as the representatives 
of the states of this Union, regarded as governments, should 
come, to a distinct imderstanding as to our respective views, 
in oi'der to ascertain whether the great questions at issue 
between the two sections can be settled or not. If you who 
represent the stronger portion cannot agree to settle them on 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 9] 

the broad principle of justice and duty, say so, and let the 
states we represent agree U separate and part in peace. 

" If you are not willing we should part in peace, tell lus so, 
and we shall know what to do when you require the question 
to submission or resistance. K you remain silent, you then 
compel us to infer what you intend. In that case, California 
will become the test question. If you admit her under all the 
difficulties that oppose her admission, you compel us to infer 
that you intend to exclude us from the whole of the acquired 
ten-itories, with the intention of destroying irretrievably the 
equilibrium between the two sections. We would be blind 
not to perceive in that case, that your real objects are power 
and aggrandizement, and infatuated not to act accordingly, 

" I have now, senators, done my duty in expressing my 
opinions fully, freely, and candidly, on this solemn occasion. 
In doing so, I have been governed by the motives which have 
governed me in all the stages of the agitations of the slavery 
question since its commencement, and exerted myself to arrest 
it, with the intention of saving the Union, if it could be done ; 
and if it cannot, to save the section where it has pleased Pro- 
vidence to cast my lot and which I sincerely believe has justice 
and the Constitution on its side. 

" Having feithfully done my duty to the best of my ability, 
both in the Union and my section, throughout the whole of 
this agitation, I shall have the consolation, let what will come, 
that I am free from all responsibility." 



92 CRAYON BKETCHE9, AXD 



LEWIS CASS. 

Hon. Lewis Cass is a gallant general, a good citizen, an 
eminent statesman, who lias served his country at home and 
abroad, for many years, with honor to himself and credit to 
his country. He is a man of unimpeachable purity of cha- 
racter, — and his abstemious habits (unless he has met with a 
recent change) deserve the commendation of all good men. 
He is pugnacious, and often shakes his fist in the face of John 
Bull ; is ambitious, and has made high bids for the presidency 
In his efforts to provoke the former and secure the latter, he 
has displayed his weakest points. 

Lewis Cass is a great man — physically and intellectually, 
There is nothing trashy or inane in his speeches ; he is not 
subject to poetical hysterics, and there is not much of the ma- 
jestic or the sublime in his speeches. It is seldom that gi-eat 
and mighty thoughts leap from his mouth, as " Minerva sprang 
from the brain of Jove ;" but he is plain, practical, philosophical, 
argumentative, correct, and classical. He does not soar like 
an angel, but he stands erect like a man. He has a well- 
balanced, ratiocinative mind — deeply experienced, and tho- 
roughly cultivated. He cannot, like Webster, " heap Pelion 
upon Ossa," until his opponent is overwhelmed and crushed to 
the dust, — but he digs deeply, until the victim is fii'st under- 
mined, and finally buried under his own premises. 

He is corpulent — almost gross — and has a dull face ; is a 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 93 

perfect gentleman in his address, excellent company, when ha 
is sufficiently acquainted to " unbend the brow," and in the 
convivial circle he can contribute his share of merriment. He 
speaks French fluently, and is familiar with other languages. 
He is a man whom his party delights to honor, — and has been 
governor, representative, foreign minister, is now senator, an 
several times he has been almost President of the United 
States. He lives in a large, plain, democratic-looking house, 
in the beautiful city of Detroit. He is now ill with the ague* 
— the only thing that can shake him. Senator Douglass has 
recently employed an artist to take his portrait. Perhaps he 
designs to hang the shadow on the wall, and take the place 
of the substance himself. He is highly esteemed in Michigan 
and has more influence there than any other man in the state. 
Permit me to record a joke, which has been exposed to the 
sun and air so long it has become dry, if not stale. *' Tell 
Hale," said Cass, " that he is a Granite goose.' " Tell Cass," 
replied Hale, " that he is a Michi-gander /" 
Here is a specimen of his style : — 

BPEECU OF LEWIS CASS, ON THE DEATH OF DANIEL WEBSTER, 
DELIVERED IN U. S. SENATE, DECEMBER, 14, 1852. 

"Mr. President. — Row Are The Mighty Fallen! was 
the pathetic lamentation when the leaders of Israel were struck 
down in the midst of their services and of their renown. Well 
may we repeat that national wail — How are the mighty fallen ,' 

* Since recovered. 



94 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

— when the impressive dispensations of Providence have so re* 
oently carried mourning to the hearts of the American people, 
by summoning from life to death three of their eminent 
citizens, who, for almost half a century, had taken part — 
and prominently, too — in all the great questions, as well of 
peace as of war, which agitated and divided their country. 
" Full indeed they were of days and of honors, for, 

" ' The hand of the reaper 
Took the ears that were heavy 

but never brighter in intellect, purer in patriotism, nor more 
powerful in influence, than when the grave closed upon their 
labors, leaving their memory and their career at once an in- 
centive and an example for their countrymen in that long 
course of trial — but I trust, of freedom <ind prosperity, also — 
which is open before us. Often divided in life, but only by 
honest convictions of duty, followed in. a spirit of generous 
emulation, and not of personal opposition, ^.hey are now united 
in death, and we may appropiately adopt, npon this striking, 
occasion, the beautiful language addressed to the people of 
England by one of her most gifted sons, when they were called 
to mourn, as we are called now, a bereavement which spread 
sorrow — dismay almost — through the nation, and under cir- 
cumstances of difficulty and of danger far greater than any wa 
can now reasonably anticipate in the progress of our hWory : — • 

' Seek not for those a separate doom. 
Whom Fate made brothers in the tomb ; ^ 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 9/5 

But search the land of living men; 
Where shall we find their like again ?' 

"And, to-day, in the consideration of the message of tha 
Chief Magistrate, it becomes us to respond to his communica- 
tion — commending itself, as it does, to the universal sentiment 
of the country — of the death of the last lamented statesman, 
as a national misfortune. This mark of respect and regret, 
was (hie alike to the memory of the dead, and to the feelings 
of the living. And I have listened vnth deep emotion to the 
eloquent testimonials to the mental power, and worth, and 
services of the departed patriot, which, to-day have been 
heard in the high place, and will be heard to-morrow, and 
commended, too, by the American people. 

"The voice of party is hushed in the presence of such a 
national calamity, and the grave closes upon the asperity of 
political contests, when it closes upon those who have taken 
part in them. 

" And well may we, who have so often witnessed his labors 
and his triumphs ; well may we, here, upon this theatre of 
his services and his renown, recalling the eftbrts of his mighty 
understanding, and the admiration which always followed 
its exertion, well may we come with our tribute of acknow- 
ledgment to his high and divereified powers, and to the 
influence he exercised upon his auditors, and, in fact, upon his 
country. He was, indeed, one of those remarkable men, who 
stand prominently forward upon the canvass of history, 
impressing their characteristics upon the age in which they 



90 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

live, and almost making it their own by tlie force of their 
genius, and by the splendor of their fame. The time which 
elapsed between the middle of the eighteenth century and 
our own day, was prolific of great events, and of distinguished 
men, who guided or were guided by them, far beyond any 
other equal period in the history of human society. But, in 
my opinion, even this favored epoch, has produced no man 
possessing a more massive and gigantic intellect, or who 
exhibited more profound powers of investigation, in the great 
department of political science to which he devoted himself 
in all its various ramifications, than Daniel Wehstei . 
***** 
" It was my good fortune to hear him upon one of these 
)ccasions, when, in this very hall, filled to overflowing with 
tn audience, whose rapt attention indicated his powers and 
iheir expectations, he entered into an analysis of the Constitu 
don, and of the great jjrinciples of our political organization, 
(yith a vigor of argument, a force of illustration, and a felicity 
of diction, which have rendered this eff'ort of his mind one of 
the proudest monuments of American genius, and one of the 
noblest expositions which the operations of our government M 
have called forth. I speak of its general effect, without 
concurring in all the views he presented, though the points of 
difierence neither impair my estimate of the speaker, nor of 
the power he displayed in this elaborate debate. 

" The judgment of his contemporaries upon the character 
of his eloquence, will be confirmed by the future historian. 
" He grasped the questions involved in the subject before 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 97 

him with a rare union of force and discrimination, and he 
presented them in an order of arrangement, marked at onco 
.with great perspicuity and with logical acuteness, so that, 
when he arrived at his conclusion, he seemed to reach it by a 
process of established propositions, interwoven with the hands 
of a master ; and topics, barren of attraction, from their 
nature, were rendered interesting by illustrations and allusions, 
drawn from a vast storehouse of knowledge, and applied with 
a chastened taste, formed upon the best models of ancient 
and of modern learning ; and to these eminent qualifications 
was added an uninterrupted flow of rich and often racy, old- 
fashioned English, worthy of the earlier masters of the 
language, whom he studied and admired. 

" As a statesman and a politician, his power was felt and 
acknowledged through the Republic, and all bore willing 
testimony to his enlarged views, and to his ardent patriotism. 
And he acquired an European reputation by the state papers 
he prepared upon various questions of our foreign policy ; and 
one of these — his refutation and exposure of an absurd and 
arrogant pretension of Austria — is distinguished by lofty and 
generous sentiments, becoming the age in which he lived, and 
the great people in whose name he spoke, and is stamped 
with a \ngor and research not less honorable in the exhibition 
than conclusive in the application ; and it will ever take rank 
in the history of diplomatic intercouree among the richest 
contributions to the commentaries upon the public law of the 
world. 

" And in internal as in external troubles he was true, and 

5 



98 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

tried, and faithful. And in the latest, may it be the last, &a 
it was the most perilous, crisis of our country, rejecting all 
sectional consideration, and exposing himself to sectional 
denunciation, he stood up boldly, proudly, indeed, and with 
consummate ability, for the Constitutional rights of another 
portion of the Union, fiercely assailed by a spirit of aggres- 
sion, as incompatible with our mutual obligations as with the 
duration of the Confederation itself. In that dark and doubt- 
ful hour, his voice was heard above the storm, recalling his 
countrymen to a sense of their dangers and their duties, and 
tempering the lessons of reproach with the experience of age 
and the dictates of patriotism. 

" He who heard his memorable appeal to the public reason 
and conscience, made in this crowded chamber, with all eyes 
fixed upon the speaker, and almost all hearts swayed b}' his 
words of wisdom and of power, will sedulously guard its 
recollections as one of those precious incidents which, while 
they constitute the poetry of history, exert a permanent and 
decisive influence upon the destiny of nations. 

" And our deceased colleague added the kindlier affections 
of the mind ; and I recall, with almost painful sensibility, the 
associations of our boyhood, when we were school-fellows 
together, with all the troubles and the pleasures which belong 
to that relation of life, in its narrow world of preparation. 
. He rendered himself dear by his disposition and deportment, 
and exhibited some of those peculiar characteristic features 
which, later in life, made him the ornament of the social 
circle ; and when study and knowledge of the world had 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 09 

ripened his faculties, endowed him with powers of conversa- 
tion I have not found surpassed in my intercouree with 
society, at home or abroad. His conduct and bearing at that 
early period have left an enduring impression upon my 
memory of mental traits, which his subsequent course in life, 
developed and confirmed. And the commanding position and 
ascendency of the man were foreshadowed by the standing 
and influence of the boy among the comrades who sur- 
rounded him. 

" Fifty years ago, we parted — he to prepare for his splendid 
career in the good old land of our ancestors, and I to encoun- 
ter the rough toils and trials of life, in the great forest of the 
West. But ere long the report of his words and his deeds 
penetrated those recesses where human industry was pain- 
fully but successfully contending with the obstacles of 
Nature, and I found that my early companion was assuming 
a position which confirmed my previous anticipations, and 
which could only be attained by the rare faculties with which 
he was gifted. Since then he has gone on, irradiating his 
path with the splendor of his ejcfi;"tions, till the whole 
hemisphere was bright with his glory, and never brighter 
than when he went down in the west, without a cloud to 
obscure his lustre, calm, clear, and glorious. Fortunate in life, 
he was not less fortunate in death, for he died with his fame 
undiminished, his faculties unbroken, and his usefulness unim- 
paired; surrounded by weeping friends, and regarded with 
anxious solicitude by a grateful country, to whom the messen- 
ger, that mocks at time and space, told from hour to hour the 



100 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

progress of his disorder, and the approach of his fate. And 
beyond all this, he died in the faith of a Christian, humble, 
but hopeful, adding another to the roll of eminent men who 
have searched the Gospel of Jesus, and have found it the 
word and the will of God, given to direct us while here, and 
to sustain us in that hour of trial, when the things of this 
world are passing away, and the dark valley of the shadow of 
death is opening before us. 

'■'■How are the Mighty Fallen! we may yet exclaim, 
when reft of our greatest and wisest ; but they fall to rise 
again fi'om death to life, when such quickening faith in the 
mercy of God, and in the Sacrifice of the Redeemer comes to 
shed upon them its happy influence, on this side of the grave 
and beyond it" 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. lO] 



CHARLES C. BURLEIGH. 

Charles C Burleigh, the eccentric and eloquent aboli- 
tionist, is brother to William 11. and George Burleigh, the 
celebrated poets. He is an out and out " come-outer" — a 
non-compromising radical — a splendid scholar — an off-hand 
orator. He is not so genial as Garrison — but has more force 
— not so bitter as Pillsbury, but his severity has a keener 
edge and cuts deeper — less eloquent than Phillips, but more 
logical than he — not so blunt as Foster, but, like him, he is a 
plain-dealer. His best thoughts are struck out at a heat, and 
come to the heart winged with words of fire. There is 
thunder and liffhtnintj in his lomc — and the concussion, as 
well as the conclusion, are irresistible. His arguments are 
not betinselled with gauze and silver spangles ; it is pure gold 
that glitters in his speeches. You look in vain for the double 
refined essence of nonsense and affectation, with which literary 
dandies perfume their productions. There is a smell of gun- 
powder in the atmosphere, and a mighty fluttering of game, 
when he levels his gun at a multitude. His arguments are 
forcible — his appeals pathetic — his language classical. When 
he follows an opponent in debate, he begins at the begin- 
ning, pursues his meanderings, and sweeps away his sophistiy, 
as gossamer is swept by the wind. He may be seen selling 



102 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

books at the door of the building where the convention \a 
held, one minute, and the next minute be may be seen on the 
platform, addressing an audience. Unmoved by the cat-calls 
in the gallery, or the scribbling of the reporters at his elbow, 
he speaks right on, as though, like the prophet Ezekiel, he 
had swallowed the parchment roll. There is no flaw in his 
unpremeditated addresses — you cannot discover any welding 
marks. I do not set him up " too steep," when I venture the 
assertion, that his addresses found in the abolition papers, will 
compare favorably with the best speeches made in the Senate 
Chamber at Washington. Notwithstanding his superior 
talents and his surpassing power of language, he is a wild 
man, who ought to be caught and shaved, for his beard stands, 
or rather hangs, in the way of his usefulness. Unlike Samson, 
his weakness is in his hair, and he could better slay the Philis- 
tines and shake the pillars of the temple, if be would permit 
some one to crop off his locks. The first time the writer saw 
him, he looked like a madman just out of Bedlam — but he 
spoke like an Apostle whose lips had been touched with a 
live coal from the altar of inspiration. I have seen him 
frequently since that time, and think that he looks better than 
he formerly did — as for his speaking, his last eflfort is always 
the best. 

Mr. Burleigh is a tall, thin man, with light eyes that glow 
and sparkle when he speaks. He wears a golden beard, long 
enough to please the taste of the most fastidious Nazarint; ; 
permits the hair on his head to grow long, parts it in the 
middle, and it rolls in auburn ringlets over his narrow 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 103 

shoulders ; dresses plainly, and gives abundant proof that 
dame Fashion seldom or never replenishes his wardrobe. Is 
somewhat inclined to Quakerism — although his creed does 
not appear in the brim of his beaver or the cut of his coat. 
His character is irreproachable. He has labored untiringly 
for the welfare of humanity for many years. 



;0} CKATON SKETCHES, AND 



HENllT WARD BEECHER. 

Henry Ward Beecher is one of the boldest thinkers ana 
bravest speakers in America. He not only wages war with 
unpopular vices, but has the courage to seize national evils 
by the throat ; the mealy-mouthed, Janus-faced politician, 
while fishing for votes and catching suckers in the alehouse, 
he holds up to everlasting indignation and contempt; the 
gambler, who in the great game of life " stakes his soul and 
lets the devil win it ;" the lecherous libertine, whose look is 
lust, whose touch is pollution ; the miser, who cheats the pale 
sewing girl, and defrauds his apprentice ; the drunkard ; the 
death-dealer ; the oppressor, are all scourged by him ; and 
every word he speaks is a blow ; every blow inflicts a wound. 
Were he more ambitious than religious, he might employ 
the irreverent language of Pope, and say, 

" Yes, I am proud to see 
Men not a&aid of God, afraid of me." 

Mr. Beecher has studied the great folic of nature, and he 
can read men, whether they be bound in hoards', sheep, or calf. 
He seems to be acquainted with the haunts and the habits, 
the slang and the signs of the gi'eat army of sinners. Ha 




^^ived^y JC.BuUre 




OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 105 

nev^er was a drunkard, but he speaks like one fresh from tho 
spirit land ; he never was a gambler, yet he speaks about 
high, low, jack, and the game, as though he had studied the 
pack as well as the Book ; he never was a dandy, but he 
knows " how such die of a rose in aromatic pain ;" he never 
was a demagogue, yet he knows how to unmask the dema- 
gogue. Mr. Beecher's invaluable lectures to young men com- 
prise one of the richest galleries of word-painting to be found 
in the world of literature. Now he shows us an obese, greasy, 
wheezing, broken-down, political hack ; then a ripe, rosy, 
plump, luscious rascal, " whose spotted hide covers a tiger ;" 
here we see a lank, lean miser, who would fling his last penny 
into his chest, sit upon the lid and swallow the key, for fear he 
might lose it ; there we see the drunkard, with his floating 
eyes and fieiy face, cfec, «fec. • 

Mr. Beecher has a style of his own ; it is more figurative 
than argumentative, more popular than classical. He has a 
fervid imagination, and although he seldom soars to the sub- 
lime, the beautiful is quite accessible to him ; his humor is 
like a spirited colt — diflicult to ride and hard at the mouth, 
sheering from the road frequently at the sight of its own sha- 
dow. He has great power of origination, and the skill to 
Beecherize what he borrows until it becomes his own. His 
mind is not a mint where every piece of metal bears the im- 
pression of a die, but a mine where gold can be obtained by 
the ingot ; and he is a fool, and not an alchymist, who rejects 
it because there is some dross mixed with the precious ore. 

He is a popular, but not an eloquent speaker ; his matter is 

5* 



106 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

more entertaining than his manner. He is graphic, thrilling, 
earnest, forcible, but the burden of his reputation seems not to 
encumber him. When he goes from his closet to his pulpit, 
he has power over the minds of his hearers ; his sermons 
peninsulate the preacher with the congregation. 

The subject of this sketch has more courage than most men 
of his cloth. While some of his contemporaries made an 
auction block of the pulpit, and sojd the Saviour in the person 
of the slave, for a few pieces of silver, or for fear of offending 
the " silver greys," he uncringingly denounced the damnable 
deed, and employed his prolific pen and tongue in defending 
the down-trodden and oppressed. His sermons and editorials 
are not still-born ; they have open eyes and throbbing hearts, 
and they will continue to live and speak when the wicked 
efforts of those who betray humanity will be forgotten ; or if 
remembered, remembered with scorn. 

Mr. Beecher is about thirty-five years of age, of common 
size and stature ; has brown hair, blue eyes, pale complexion ; 
a noble head, and thoughtful face. He puts on no awkward 
airs of assumed dignity, but is sociable, pleasant, and commu- 
• nicative. He is not only admired, but loved by the people of 
his charge. I will add to this imperfect and hasty sketch 
the words of Hood : — 

"Thrice blessed is the man with whom 
The gracious prodigality of nature — 
The balm, the bliss, the beauty, and the bloom, 
The beauteous Providence in every feature — 
Recall the good Creator to his creature ; 
Making all earth a fane, all heaven its dome V 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 107 

The following extracts will give the reader an idea of his 
style : — 

"Our citizens have been lynched for the suspicion of hold- 
ing free sentiments ; letters and papers have been refused a 
channel in the national mail ; it has been freely said, and it 
was no vain threat, that a lamp-post or tree should be that 
man's rostrum who dared to own abolitionism in Southern 
territory; free colored citizens have been kidnapped, carried 
into hopeless slavery from our midst; our ships and boats could 
not carry colored cooks, stewards, or sailors, without having 
their service withheld from them ; our whole free colored 
population are denied the right of travel and residence in slave 
States, which the Constitution guaranties to all citizens ; they 
are arrested if found, and sold, if proved free, to pay jail fees. 

" When our States, justly incensed at high outrages perpe- 
trated against citizens and commerce, protested, they were 
answered with scorn and defiance. When, to avoid public 
scandal, and as the most direct and peaceable method, they 
sent venerable men to defend our citizens in the courts of slave 
States, their lives were threatened, innocent females in their 
family insulted, and all of them driven headlong home again. 
****** 

•* When such men as Henry Clay, Lewis Cass, and Daniel 
Webster stand up without a blush to declare that Northern 
citizens are bound to provide for catching and restoring fugi. 
live slaves, they separate themselves from the sympathy of 
nine out of every ten true men in the North and West. Does 
Mr. Webster believe that he is the Exponent of Massachusetts, 



108 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

of New England, in this monstrous inhumanity ? Pass enact- 
ments enough to fill all the archives of the Senate, and you* 
slave-catcher shall not budge an inch faster or farther than he 
now does in the North. Every village will spurn him. Every 
yeoman along the valleys will run the slave and trip the 
shameless hunter. Bread and shelter, protection and direc- 
tion will be the slave's portion north of Mason and Dixon's 
line, with more certainty and effect every year that elapses, 
until the day of Emancipation. It will be so, not from any 
special liking to the blacks, for they are not favorites ; not 
from any hostility to the South, for on any other question 
than slavery the South will find no truer friends than in the 
North. It will be so, because, since the world began, the 
sympathies of common men have been with tlie weak and 
oppressed. In that sympathy, they have conformed to the 
fundamental law of humanity which lies deeper in the con- 
sciousness of honest men, than any national compact can ever 
go. Man cannot plant parchments as deep as God plants 
principles. The Senate of the United States is august ; and 
such men as lead her counsels are men of might. But no 
man, and no senate of men, when once the eyes of a commu- 
nity are open to a qiiestion of humanity can reason and enact 
them back ajrain to a state of indiflference, and still less can 
they enlist them along with the remorseless hunters of human 
flesh. And of all the very men who will justify Mr. Webster's 
adhesion to the South, if a trembling woman, far spent with 
travel and want, holding her babe to her bare bosom, triie ir 
her utmost misery to motherhood, should timidly beg a morse 



OFF-UAND TAKINGS. 109 

of bread, a place to sleep, or a night's hiding-place from a swift 
pursuer — is there one of them all who would hesitate what to 
do? Is there a New England village that would not vomit 
out the wretch that slould dare harm the slave mother? 
There are thousands of merchants that will say Mr. Webster 
is right, who the next moment will give a fugitive slave a 
dollar to speed on with ! There are thousands who will say 
we ought to stick to the Constitution, who, when the case 
comes, would sooner cut their right hand off than be party 
to a slave's recovery. 

" Wo solemnly appeal to Christians of every name, to all 
sober and humane men, unwrenched by party feelings, to all 
tliat love man, to behold and ponder this iniquity which is 
done among us ! Shall an army of wretched victims, without 
a crime, unconvicted of wrong, pursuing honest occupations, 
be sent back to a loathed and detestable slavery ? Here is no 
* abstract ' question. We ask you, shall men now free — shall 
members of the Church — shall children from the school — 
shall even ministers of the Gospel — be seized, ironed, and in 
two hours be on the road to a servitude to them worse than 
death ? 

" For our own selves, we do not hesitate to say, what every 
man who has a spark of manhood in him will say w'th us, 
that no force should bring us into such horrible bondage. 
Before we would yield ourselves to go away to linger and 
long for death through burning years of injustice, we would 
die a thousand deaths. Every house should be our fortress ; 
and when fortress and refuge failed us, then our pursuers 



ilO CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

should release our souls to the hands of God who gave them, 
before they should degrade them by a hving slavery ! Who 
shall deny these feelings and such refuge to a black man ? 

" With such solemn convictions, no law, impious, infidel 
to God and humanity, shall have respect or observance at our 
hands. We desire no collision with it. We shall not rashly 
dash upon it. We shall not attempt a rescue, nor interrupt 
the officers, if they do not interrupt us. We prefer to labor 
peaceably for its early repeal, meanwhile saving from its mer- 
ciless jaws as many victims as we can. But in those provi- 
sions which respect aid to fugitives, may God do so to us, yea 
and more also, if we do not spurn it as we would any other 
mandate of Satan. If in God's Providence, fugitives ask bread 
or shelter, raiment or conveyance, at our hands, my own chil- 
dren shall lack bread before they ; my own flesh shall sting 
with cold ere they shall lack raiment. I will both shelter 
them, conceal them, or speed their flight ; and while under 
my shelter or under my convoy, they shall be to me as my 
own flesh and blood ; and whatever defence I would put forth 
for my own children, that shall these poor, despised, and per- 
secuted creatures have in my house or upon the road. The 
man who shall betray a fellow creature to bondage, who shall 
obey this law to the peril of his soul, and to the loss of his 
manhood, were he brother, son, or father, shall never pollute 
my hand with the grasp of hideous friendship, or cast his 
swarthy shadow across my threshold ! For such service to 
those whose helplessness and poverty make them peculiarly 
God's children, I shall cheerfully take the pains and penalties 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. Ill 

of this Bill. Bonds and fines shall be honors ; imprisonment 
and suffering will be passports to fame not long to linger !" 

EXTRACTS FROM H. W. BEECHEr's SPEECH AT THE GREAT 
KOSSUTH DINNER. 

*' Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen, I am not accustomed to 
making speeches on such an occasion as this, and yet I did 
not feel at liberty to decline. I am sure that no sentiment 
could have been given to me to speak to, which I more reli- 
giously believe. Since I can remember anything, I remember 
my aged father let neither morning nor evening fail, that ho 
aid not supplicate God to send abroad the light of civil and 
religious liberty. And he believed what he prayed ; and if I 
had not, I should not have been what I am now. Yes, I so 
thoroughly believe in it, that it is to me a part of my reli- 
gion. In addressing you to-night, I cannot speak as though 
it were an honor merely to be a supplicant to the cause to 
which I am designated, but as if you were standing before the 
altar of God, and I were put there as a man to teach you 
duty. [Applause.] Now, gentlemen, civil and religious lib- 
erty is a thing that governments may declare and recognise, 
but which governments never make, any more than govern 
ments make a man. God made a man, and He never made 
one without the hope of liberty in him ; and if there be a 
man on this earth that has not got that, then he ain't made ! 
[Great laughter and applause.] And because this is a part 
of God's ' talents ' let to us, and let on interest, and which we 
are bound, as receiving it from Him, to trade well upon, 



112 



CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



therefore it is that every government and every nation that 
has citizens who are worthy to be called men, and are worthy 
to call their mothers ' Mother,' — therefore it is that every such 
nation is perpetually tending towards liberty — no matter un- 
der v/hat oppressions — as a seed put under a rock, or under a 
board, )r in the dark shadow of a wall, yet, so it has vitality, 
will attempt to grow, will seek the water, send its root down 
to it, and then seek out where light and heat may be found. 
So, put a man under what superincumbent oppression you 
please, there always will be reaching out a root that will have 
Liberty — there always will be reaching out a stem for the 
light of God's precious civil and religious liberty ! [Ap- 
plause.] But, gentlemen, it is an easy thing for us to speak 
about civil and religious Liberty. It is easy for us who have 
it, to praise it. Oh ! methinks we praise it, as I can imagine 
an old curmudgeon, to whom Providence has given gold, and 
who will not give it to the Hungarians — as I would give it, 
if I had it. And the first time I ever envied such a man was 
lately. But I can imagine him dressed in velvet, with plush 
on which to rest his foot, flushed with wine, and surrounded 
with luxurious appliances, and fat and glowing in his abun- 
dance, this old usurer take out his gold, and talk and talk over 
and over about the benefits of life, while the beggars are on the 
sidewalk by his door, and get neither a crumb from his table 
nor a morsel of charity. I ask, what is the use of money to 
such a creature as that, except to damn him ? [Laughter and 
applause.] So it is with every man who is talking, talking 
continually about civil and religious liberty. Now, I want to 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 113 



know what they do with civil and religious liberty. [Cheers.] 
* * * * jq-QP ^Q ^Q interfere with nations by our 
example only. We are interfering by the propagation of ouj 
ideas. We do propagate our ideas ; we do it on purpose ; 
not by our literature only, but by our diplomacy, bad as our 
diplomacy is (and few think worse of it than I), nevertheless 
it is not possible for diplomacy to go out of the United States 
without conveying, more or less, the impression of Liberty, 
any more than for a person to go out of a room where odors 
are and not carry some of the perfume in his garments. It is 
not possible to convey messages, to write them on paper, that 
are not more or less testimonials to the nations of the world. 
This is not all. There is a worse conspiracy than that. Wliy 
there are revolutionary societies on this continent, who have 
their emissaries in France, Italy and Prussia, and almost 
every part of the European continent. There is the Bible So- 
ciety, one of the most revolutionary societies on the globe. 
There is the "Foreign Missionary Society. Do not think I 
mean to play on words. The sum total of all Revolutions 
is contained in the New Testament. It contains the greatest 
magazine of bomb-shells, torpedoes and rockets, and other de- 
vastating elements of all other books put together ; and that 
man that does send the Bible, and a Protestant Minister tc 
preach the doctrines of the Bible (it is no figure of speech to 
say it), is just as surely preparing them for civil and religious 
liberty, as the sun is preparing the tree for its blossoms and 
fruits, when in the spring it begins to warm the roots, and 
swell the buds and bring them out. 



114 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

" Now, having interfered thus far, shall we begin to talk 
about backing out, when there is required a little pluck — as the 
English call it ? [Cheers.] So long as it is safe, you can 
fight, but the moment it is not quite so safe, you are a little 
addicted to peace principles, [Laughter.] So long as it 
is safe, you are willing to send your missionaries, and all our 
pious men may read to our audiences, and our most conserva- 
tive men may wipe their eyes and cry, " Blessed be God !" 
[Loud cheering.] Gentlemen, I'm a little like a river, so that if 
you stop me by cheers, it dams me up, and I don't want to be 
damned ! [Great laughter.] Therefore I hope you will not 
cheer. [Cries of ' go on,' ' go on.'] I say that while we re- 
joice — even the most conservative of us — in all this early in- 
terference, which I believe God directs and prospers, will you 
shrink when the tug of war appears ? Have not the husband- 
men gone out and sown the seed broadcast, and has not 
the seed sj^rung up and flourished, and grovni green, and from 
green to yellow, and will you not now come and aid to reap the 
harvest? If men are ashamed to reap they should be ashamed 
to sow. Either stop praying ' thy Kingdom come,' or else 
when it does come, recognise it. [Laughter and cheers.] 
For my own part, gentlemen, I have no sympathy whatever 
with those who believe that it is our chief duty to talk bravely, 
but take good care when the time comes not to do anything. 

"I have but at word more to say. [Cries of 'go on,' 'go on.'] 
It seems to me that if the history of the world had been ran- 
sacked to find an occasion where we might, with propriety, 
bring our doctrines to the test, no better time could be found 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 115 

than that which is now come. I think that ahove all lands 
Hungary is the land, and above all other men, Louis Kossuth 
is the man. Stop one moment and think of Hungary, with 
more than twelve millions of united people standing centrally 
almost between occidental Europe and Asia, standing in a posi- 
tion, fitted above all others, to make it the land of liberty for all 
the world. It seems as if God for a long while had had his eye 
upon Hungary, and he has given her what he has not given 
to Italy or France. He has given her sound families, purity 
of religion, and institutions which prepare the people for self- 
government. They are all ready — there never was a nation 
so well prepared. If we begin in France, many, many as are 
her excellencies, there is a primary work to be done in the 
education of the lower classes of the people. But in Hungary, 
of all other lands over which God looks, he says to us : — 
'Take possession of that land in the name of Liberty!' " 



lie CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



ABBOTT LAWRENCE. 

The first time the writer saw Abbott Lawrence, the great 
cotton-lord, was in Brattle Square church. He was standing 
in the broad aisle, conversing with a negro, who is a brother 
member of the same religious society to which the subject of 
this sketch belongs. While the beauty, and fashion, the 
wealth and wisdom, the virtue and piety of that church were 
pressing homewards, the distinguished man who is now at the 
Court of St James, was holding a brief tete-a-tete with his 
black brother, and I had a fine opportunity to take his 
portrait. 

Mr. Lawrence is a tall, portly, noble and dignified-looking 
man, about sixty years of age. His head is bald, and shines 
as though it came fresh from the hands of a skilful varnisher 
and polisher ; and it is quite evident that the shining qualities 
of the head are not confined to the exterior of the skull, but 
seem rather to result from something brilliant within. He 
has a calm, pleasant face, indicating, to the minutest line, that 
he is not afraid to see the sheriflF or the clamorous creditor. 
He wore, on this occasion, a thin cravat, light vest and a dress 
coat (I think) of olive green. 

I saw him again at a " mass meeting " in Faneuil Hall, the 
very time when he said his breeches-pocket contained the 



1 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 117 

evidence that Gen. Taylor was a Wliig ! The old " Cradle of 
Liberty " was packed with people. It was no easy task foi 
those who came late to gain admittance, but, being accustomed 
to crowds, and determined to see and hear the speakers, I 
pushed my way through to the front gallery, where I obtained 
a seat and a view of the platform. Our subject was in the 
chair, and in more senses than one he filled it well. He was 
surrounded by men well known to fame. Some of them 
were acquainted with him when he was a poor, awkward 
boy, employed as a clerk in a store in the city of Boston. 
One of them told the writer that when Mr. Lawrence left his 
native town of Groton, he came to the capital of Massachu- 
setts with a pair of buckskin gloves on his hands. It was 
during the Summer season, and some of the city gents 
laughed at the verdancy of the country lad. That he after- 
wards pulled off his gloves, the " cities of spindles " he has 
erected, bear the most unequivocal testimony. 

At the proper time he arose and made a speech. It con- 
tained humor, pathos, and logic enough to be interesting. He 
is more of a business than a literary man ; a better financier 
than statesman, and would never have been more than a 
moderate statesman if ho had not been a first-rate financier. 
He is indebted to his brains for his money, and to his money 
for his honors. He went through the mill first, then 
graduated, at the counting-house, and recently journeyed to 
London as minister-plenipotentiary. 

Mr. Lawrence is a magnificent man. He does everything 
by wholesale and nothing in the retail line. Not satisfied 



118 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

with the murmuring of a single mill, he must make every idle 
stream turn a crank for him. Look at Lowell and Lawrence, 
the cities erected by his enterprise ! He would not be Mayor 
of Boston, but he would like to be President of the United 
States ; is liberal to the poor, though he will not allow his 
funds to filter through his own hands to the needy. He 
prefers giving a large sum when he gives anything, but it 
must be distributed by those who are willing to come in con- 
tact with the sorrowing and distressed. 

Mr. Lawrence is a practical business man, of pleasing 
manners and polite address. Although he has devoted a 
large portion of his life to business, he is familiar with the 
modern history of nations, and knows enough respecting tho 
etiquette of courts and the usages of diplomacy to fill the sta- 
tion he occupies with credit to himself and honor to his 
country. 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 119 



RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 

Ralph Waldo Emerson is one of the most erratic and 
capricioxis men in America. Some of the wiseacres who at 
first declared him a will-o'-the-wisp, have long since made the 
discovery that he is a fiery comet of the first magnitude, 
sweeping through the heavens, and eclipsing the glory of 
some of the fixed stars in our literary firmament. He is 
emphatically a democrat of the world, and believes that what 
Plato thought another man may think, what Paul felt another 
man may feel, what Shakspeare sang others may know to be 
true. As for popes, emperors, kings, queens, princes, and 
presidents, he looks upon them as grown-up children in mas- 
querade, uncrown them, disrobe them, and bring them on a 
fair level with their follow beings, and their superiors may be 
found among their subjects. In his essay on Self-Reliance, he 
says : " Our reading is mendicant and sycophantic in history, 
our imagination makes fools of us, plays us false. Kingdom 
and lordship, power and estate, are a gaudier vocabulary than 
private John or Edward in a small house and common day's 
works, but the things of life are the same to both. Why all 
this deference to Alfred and Scanderberg and Gustavus ? 
Suppose they were virtuous, did they wear out virtue ?" He 
has no patience with the chicken-hearted, who have to refer 



120 CRAil-ON SKETCHES, AND 

to mouldy records and old almanacs to ascertain if they may 
say their souls are their own. We overlook present good in 
our insane attempts to pry into the mysteries of the dark past. 
We put the past in front of our faces, instead of keeping it 
behind our backs, where it legitimately belongs. Hear him : 
" He dare not say I think I am, but quotes some saint or sage. 
He is ashamed before the blade of grass or blowing rose. 
These roses under my window make no reference to former 
roses, or to better ones ; they are for what they are ; they exist 
with God to day." " But man postpones or remembers ; he 
does not live in the present, but with reverted eye laments the 
past, or, heedless of the riches that surround him, stands on 
tip-toe to foresee the future." 

This idealistic philosopher and Titian thinker is not san- 
guine in his hopes of progress. He has the impression that 
men say " go," and stand still ; that radicals shout " reform," 
and do not improve themselves ; that many Christians go to 
church for the same reason that the multitude went into the 
wilderness. If society improves here, it retrogrades there: 
when the tide of prosperity flows in one place, it ebbs in 
another. We have maps, charts, books and globes, but 
neglect to study the beautiful earth and the bright heavens. 
We go fast (even by steam), but what we have gained in 
speed we have lost in strength ; we have acquired a know- 
ledge of science and sacrificed our health ; the telegraph is 
our " errand boy," and we die for the lack of exercise ; we 
lose our roses in our teens, and grow gi-ey in the morning ol 
life. If we are wiser, we are also older than our fathers were 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 121 

at twice our age. "We gape and gaze at every novelty that 
comes before us. A quack with his nostrums, a priest with 
his nonsense say to us, " Shut your eyes, open your mouth, 
and swallow ;" and we, like boa-constrictors, swallow the 
whole, and then mistake an undigested stomach-full for a 
heart-full. 

'Mr. Emerson is a tei*se, vivid, and graphic writer. Some- 
times there is a glow of poetry behind a veil of mist in his 
essays. It is difficult to tell at what he is driving. He is 
often like the sun in a fog ; we know there is light and heat, 
but the vapor hangs like a thin curtain between us and the 
luminary, as though the monarch of the skies was trying to 
hide his spots. He now and then deals in unintelligible 
inversions, inexplicable mysticisms, and seems to shake up 
his disjointed and unsorted ideas in ollapodiana style, as 
tliough he designed to give us the " clippings, parings, and 
shreds of his thoughts." If Swedenborg be the Shakspeare 
of theology, Emerson is the Swedenborg of philosophy. 
Even his incongruous agglomerations are brilliant, as they are 
incomprehensible. Read the following as a specimen of that 
style : " The Gothic cathedral is a blossoming in stone, sub- 
dued by the insatiable demand of harmony in man. The 
mountain of granite blooms into an eternal flower, with the 
lightness and delicate finish as well as the serial proportions 
and perspective of vegetable beauty. In like manner all 
public facts are to be individualized, all private facts are to bo 
gcuei-alized. Then at once history becomes fluid and true, 
and biography deep and sublime." 



122 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

Mr. Emerson is a poetical as Avell as a prose writer, but 
there is more poetry in his prose than in his poems. Tn 
Europe he is regarded as the essayist of America. During 
his tour through Great Britain, he met with a cordial recep- 
tion, and his lectures were numerously attended. He is by 
some entitled the " Carlyle of America," but he is evidently 
a better and a greater man than Carlyle. The pupil is wiser 
than the teacher. The chip is larger than the block. Ho 
has a more opulent intellect, much better taste, and higher 
and holier aims, than the snarling, cynical philosopher of the 
Old World. 

The only time the writer had an opportunity to hear Mr. 
Emerson, was at a mass meeting in Worcester. He was in- 
vited to speak, and responded with great reluctance, and then 
made a failure. He stammered, halted, blundered, hesitated, 
through a five minutes' speech. The peoj>le were astonished 
at his awkwardness. He cannot make an extemporaneous 
speech. He would not have appeared to such great disadvan- 
tage, perhaps, had he not followed directly in the wake of 
Wendell Phillips. Mr. Emerson is in the prime of life, and is 
an intellectual-looking man ; has dark brown hair, blue eyes, 
a pale, thoughtful face, not a great development of forehead, 
and is between forty and fifty years of age. He is a sociable, 
accessible, republican sort of a man, and a great admirer 
of nature. Had he been a Persian he would have worshipped 
the sun. He is celebrated the world over as a lyceum lec- 
turer. He is in independent circumstances. He is a strange 
compound of contradictions — always right in practice, often 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 123 

right in theory. He is a sun, rising in the East and setting 
in the West, but occasionally he alarms and astonishes us by 
rising and sinning at midnight. 

The literary lilliputians, who have endeavored to pin Emer- 
son to the earth, find that he is in good standing with the 
gods ; of course, their labors, not of love but of jealousy, are 
lost. He loves his brother man, whether he belongs to the 
green-jacket tribe or the royal family. He looks upon the 
flowers as his friends. 

" The spendtlirift crocus, bursting from the mould, 
Naked and shivering with its cup of gold," 

has honey and fragrance for him. The birds are his compa- 
nions, and he interprets their warblings. He reads the les- 
sons that are stereotyped on the rocks — in a word, to him the 
world is a book and the sky its blue cover ; deserts and 
oceans arc its fly-leaves, and the busy nations the illustrations 
of the volume. 

Kossuth probably never listened to a more eloquent speech 
than the following. 

SPEECH OF RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 

"Sir. — The fatigues of your many public visits, in such 
unbroken succession, as may compare with the toils of a 
campaign, forbid us to detain you long. The people of this 
town share with their countrymen the admiration of valor and 
perseverance ; they, like their compatriots, have been hungry 
to see the man whose extraordinary eloquence is seconded bj 



124 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

the splendor and the solidity of his actions. But, as it is the 
privilege of the people of this town to keep a hallowed mound 
which has a place in the story of the country — as Concord is 
one of the monuments of freedom — we knew beforehand that 
you could not go by us ; you could not take all your steps in 
the pilgrimage of American liberty, until you had seen "with 
your eyes the ruins of the little bridge, where a handful of 
brave farmers opened our Revolution. Therefore, we sat and 
waited for you. 

" And now. Sir, we are heartily glad to see you, at last, in 
these fields. We set no more value than you do, on cheers 
and huzzas. But we think that the graves of our heroes 
around us throb to-day to a footstep that sounded like their 

own ; 

' The mighty tread 

Brings from the dust the sound of liberty.' 

" Sir, we have watched with attention your progress through 
the land, and the varying feeling with which you have been 
received, and the unvarying tone and countenance which you 
have maintained. We wish to discriminate in our regard. 
We wish to reserve our honor for actions of the noblest strain. 
We please ourselves that in you we meet one whose temper 
was long since tried in the fire, and made equal to all events ; 
a man so truly in love with the greatest future, that he cannot 
be diverted to any less. 

" It is our republican doctrine, too, that the wide variety of 
opinions is an advantage; I believe, I may say of the people 
of this country at large, that their sympathy is more worth, 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 125 

because it stands tlie test of party. It is not a blind wave 
it is the living soul, contending with living souls. It is, in 
every expression, antagonized. No opinion -will pass, but 
must stand the tug of war. As you see, the love you win is 
worth something ; for it has been argued through ; its foun- 
dation searched ; it has proved sound and whole ; it may b« 
avowed; it will last; and it will draw all opinion to itself. 

" We have seen, with great pleasure, that there is nothing 
accidental in your attitude. We have seen that you are 
organically in that cause you plead. The man of freedom, 
you are also the man of fate. You do not elect, but you are 
elected by God and your genius to your task. We do not, 
therefore, affect to thank you. We only see you the angel 
of freedom, crossing sea and land ; crossing parties, national i- 
lic's, private interests, and self-esteems; dividing populations, 
where you go, and drawing to your part only the good. We 
are afraid you are growing popular, Sir ; you may be called to 
the dangers of prosperity. But hitherto, you have had, in 
all countries, and in all parties, only the men of heart. I do 
not know but you will have the million yet. Then, may your 
strength be equal to your day ! But remember. Sir, that every- 
thing great and excellent in the world is in minorities. 

" Far be from us, sir, any tone of patronage ; we ought 
rather to ask youi-s. We know the austere condition of 
liberty — that it must be reconquered over and over again ; 
yea, day by day ; that, it is a state of war ; that it is always 
slipping from those who boast it, to those who fight for it; 
and you, the foremost soldier of freedom in this age — it is for 



12G CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

US to crave your judgment — who are we, tliat we should die 
tate to you ? 

"You have won your own. We only affirm it. This 
country of working-men greets in you a worker. This Re- 
public greets in you a republican. We only say, 'Well done, 
good and faithful.' You have earned your own nobility at 
home. We admit you ad eundem (as they say at college). 
We admit you to the same degree, without new trial. We 
(Suspend all rules before so paramount a merit. You may 
well sit a doctor in the college of liberty. You have achieved 
your right to interpret our Washington. And I speak the 
sense, not only of every generous American, but the law of 
mind, when I say, that it is not those who live idly in the city 
called after his name, but those who, all over the world, think 
and act like him, who can claim to explain the sentiment of 
Washington. 

" Sir, whatever obstruction from selfishness, indifference, or 
from property (which always sympathises with possession) 
you may encounter, we congratulate you, that you have 
known how to convert calamities into powers, exile into a 
campaign, present defeat into lasting victory. For this new 
crusade which you preach to willing and to unwilling ears in 
America, is a seed of armed men. You have got your story 
told in every palace, and log hut, and prairie camp, through- 
out this continent. And, as the shores of Europe and 
America approach every month, and their politics will one day 
mingle, when the crisis arrives, it will find us all instructed 
beforehand in the rights and wrongs of Hungary, and parties 
<ilready to her freedom." 



*t 




/ /^ 



^ 



,. ..y^^/n. 



^^^- 



I 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 12^ 



JOHN VAN BUREN. 

Prince John is the Duke of York, the distmguished son 
of King Martin the First ; is the Jupiter Tonans of his party, 
the Jove of jolly fellows, a royal roystering republican, a 
genius and a good fellow, admired and adored by the masses. 
He can accommodate himself to the society of the voters in 
the " Sixth Ward," or the company of peers with laced gaunt- 
lets, knights in golden mantles, or Presidents at the " White 
House," without losing his identity. He is John Van Buren, 
and nobody else, whether he be sitting cheek-by-jowl with 
Tom, Dick, and Harry at the corner grocery, or debating with 
the Cokes and Littletons of the law in chancery, or hugging 
and kissing Queen Victoria in her palace. When the obese, 
wheezing, antediluvian Hunkers met him in the arena of 
combat, he attacked them vigorously and repulsed them with 
great {s)laughter. 

This apostle of the " young democracy" bids fair to occupy 
an important niche in the Pantheon of the present time. Ho 
has a philosophical and penetrating mind, which has had the 
advantages and disadvantages of every degree of cultivation 
— in the palace of the President and in the pothouse of the 
demagogue. He knows there are zealots, bigots, and earnest 
Christians in our churches; true patriots and truckling 



128 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

sycophants in our political parties ; devoted philanthropists 
and hollow-hearted pretenders in our benevolent associations, 
and he governs himself accordingly. He knows the man- 
about-town, and permits him to be on sociable terms, for that 
comports with his idea of republicanism. He allows the 
hackman, the bar-tender, the wood-sawyer and the butcher-boy 
to call him Jack, and slap him on the shoulder, for the same 
reason the sportsman plays with his dogs at the commence- 
ment of the chase. 

John Van Buren is fond of the chase, and he will hunt the 
rats to the barn, and then set the buildings on fire, for he is 
truly a " barnburner." Sometimes he has to contend with 
eloquent reasoners and men of imperious talent. On such 
occasions he displays great versatility of mind, searching 
analysis, nice taste, sound judgment, vivid fancy, polished 
scorn and convincing logic. He can be comic, dramatic, 
energetic, picturesque, sedate, seductive, inductive, and deduc- 
tive. He punished Croswell (a political editor) over the 
remains of Silas Wriglit, as Marc Antony did Brutus over 
the dead body of Caesar ; and when the man of " mighty 
pens" attempted to retreat, he got his "foot in the gra- 
ting." 

At a mass meeting, when Prince John was the mouthpiece 
of his party, one of the "unterrified" proposed three cheers 
for Cass. " Oh, don't," said the waggish orator, with a look 
of mock gravity ; " it will be like whistling at a funeral." 
His speeches are often enlivened with caustic wit and unmis- 
takable home-thrusts Sometimes he leads his hearers through 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 1 2^ 

a dead level of political history, witliout either song or story 
to change the dull monotony and cheer the impatient hearer, 
He writes clearly and forcibly, regardless of finish or orna- 
ment ; has as much shrewdness, adroitness, and world-wisdom 
as his father, but less socretiveness, less suavity and less 
dignity ; can excel his father at stump speaking, but cannot 
equal him in writing a Message, John annihilates his 
enemies by the simoon of his sarcasm ; his father catches 
them in the trap of stratagem, and compliments them into 
bosom friendship. Indeed, he is an unconverted Paul, 
pursuing (not persecuting) hunkers (not Christians) to 
strange cities, while his father is Absalom (without the 
locks), winning the hearts of the people. 

Prince John is a favorite among the ladies. It is currently 
reported that when Queen Victoria presented her lily-white 
hand for him to kiss, according to court etiquette, he, in 
the face of such usages, with republican gallantry folded 
his arms around her neck, and gave her a hearty smack 
upon her cheek. It is also said that during his widower- 
hood he paid some attention to a lady of fortune in Western 
New York, and once upon a time, when they were riding 
on horseback, he ventured to pop the question. The 
lady changed the subject by asking him to overtake her 
at the same time giving her horse a hint which caused 
him to bound forward with the speed of the wind. John 
was astride a livery stable hack, and was soon distanced, 
and not a little mortified at seeing the lady's glove upon 

the road ! If it be true that this distinguished " son of 

6* 



130 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

York" has refrained from the use of wine, there is a 
brilliant future before him. He is so frank, so generous, 
and so gifted, he is the man the people will delight tc 
honor ; but he must not, like Alcibiades, deface the imagea 
of the gods and expect to be pardoned on the score of eccen 
tricity. 

Mr. Van Buren is one of the first men in the " Empire 
State." He sustains the same relationship to the Democratic 
party that Seward holds to the Whig party. In personal 
appearance, he is a tall, spare man, with a " locofocoish" look, 
somewhat round-shouldered, and stoops a little when he walks, 
as though he had to bear upon his back the responsibility of 
the party he lately rejuvenated. His head is prematurely 
bald, and the scanty supply of hair that is left is soft, thin, 
and of a foxy color, and has that phosjihorescent appearance 
which indicates a readiness to blaze the moment there is any 
friction of brain — hence his flashes of wit when he is rubbed. 
He is about forty years of age, has an ample forehead, expres- 
sive eyes, and a countenance denoting a high order of 
intellect. 

He is an eminent lawyer, a great statesman, a progress 
politician. There is a sort of don't-care-a-copper-ativeness 
about him, a reckless spirit of dare-anything-ism, which is 
repulsive to the amiable, though delightful to the disciples of 
rowdyism. In his happiest moods, when speaking from the tri- 
bune, he is chaste, classical, philosophical, and the illuminati 
become his enthusiastic admirers. He only needs the grace- 
ful polish, the serene dignity of his father, added to his othei 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. ISl 

best attributes, to render him one of the most useful, honora- 
ble and distinguished men of the nineteenth century. 

That he is destined, if his life is spared, to hold an impor- 
tant relation to the politics of his country, is the sincere beliel 
of Crayon. 



122 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. 

" There," said our driver, " is the birth-place of John Gr. 
Whittier," when he pointed to a plain farm-house on the edge 
of the town of Haverhill, situated a short walk from the road- 
side — or, as the poet himself describes the old homestead^ 
" Our farm-house was situated in a lonely valley, half sur- 
rounded with woods, with no neighbors in sight." 

Soon after my arrival at the busy and beautiful village of 
Amesbury, where the great poet of humanity now lives, I ascer- 
tained his whereabouts, and gave him a letter of introduction, 

written by our mutual friend, W. A. W , an untiring 

co-laborer in the work-field of reform. I found him at home, 
in his Quaker cottage, where his friends and visitors are sure 
to meet with a kind reception. On the adjoining lot is another 
nest in the bushes, where a family of singers give vocal utter- 
ance to the poetry Whittier writes. Mr. W. responded to the 
rap at the door, and invited me to take a chair in a plain, neat 
room, which commands a view of a large and beautiful garden, 
where he spends a share of his leisure time, when his health 
will permit him to work there. He gave me an introduction 
to his excellent mother, and after a little chat on the common 
topics of conversation, politely invited me to remain and taka 
tea with him. 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 



133 



I knew quite well that I was in the presence of one of the 
purest-minded and most gifted men in America ; a man whose 
name and fame are world-wide, and " as famiKar as household 
words ;" a man whose mighty thoughts are winged with words 
of fire ; but he is so unassuming, so accessible, so frank, and 
so well " posted up " on all matter of news, that, whatever sub- 
ject is broached, one feels at home in the presence of a, friend^ 
while conversing with him. This eminent poet of the slave is 
forty years of age. His temperament is nervous-bilious ; he is 
tall, slender, and straight as an Indian ; has a superb head ; 
his brow looks like a white cloud, under his raven hair ; eyes 
large, black as sloes, and glowing with expression. He belongs 
to the society of Friends, and in matters of dress and address, 
he is of " the strictest sort." Should a stranger meet him in 
the street, with his coUarless coat and broad-brimmed hat, he 
would not discover anything remarkable in his appearance, 
certainly would not dream that he had seen the Elliott of 
America. But, let him uncover that head, and see those star- 
like eyes flashing under such a magnificent forehead, and he 
would know, at a glance, that a great heart, a great soul, and 
a great intellect, must light up such a radiant frontispiece. 
His fellow townsmen are proud of his fame, as well they may 
be, for Amesbury will be known all over the world, to the end 
of time, as the residence of John G. Whittier, " the poet of the 
poor." 

Wherever he discovers the talisman of intellect he recog- 
nises a brother ; " though his skin and bones were of the color 
of night, they are transparent, and the everlasting stars shine 



134 



CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



through them with attractive beams." He knows that com- 
plexion is not a crime, crisped hair is not a sin, thick lips are 
not a transgression, and he has bared his arms to avert the 
blow that would plough the quivering flesh of the toil-worn 
slave. He has heard the wail of the distracted mother, who, 
like Rachel, refuses to be comforted because her child has been 
torn from her bosom and sold into hopeless servitude, where 
her eye cannot pity its sorrows, where her hand cannot allevi- 
ate its distress ; and he has denounced such fiendish cruelty 
with an eloquence and pathos approximating to inspiration. 
He has seen hollow-hearted statesmen tear the stripes from our 
flag and put them on the backs of our countrymen ; and he has 
spiced sheets that will preserve such mummies in the amber 
and pitch of infamy for ever. He has seen the fugitive flying 
from the house of bondage, with hunters and blood-hounds on 
his track in hot pursuit, and he has shouted, " God speed the 
slave !" until lungless echo has repeated the cry on every hill- 
top of the free North. He has seen where the red-hot brand- 
ing-iron has been pressed on the shrinking flesh of a freeman's 
hand, until the sizzling blood spouted from the wound ; and the 
angel of his muse touched his lips with a burning coal from the 
altar of God, whilst he immortalized the patient hero, and 
annihilated everything but the damnable infamy of the heart- 
less, soulless persecutors. 

Mr. Wliittier is a sincere lover of truth and right, and hia 
language is, " In vain, and long, enduring wrong, the weak 
may strive against the strong, but the day shall yet appear, 
when the might with the right and the truth shall be, and 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. l'6o 

come what there may, to stand in the way, that day the world 
shall see." (Pardon my drawing the lines into prose. I quote 
from memory, and fear I might do still gi-eater injustice to the 
author, by measuring the sentiment off into verse.) Such men 
as he, are excluded from the South, but slaveholders can no 
more keep out his sentiments than the fool could keep the 
wind out of the barn-yard by closing the gate. Judging by 
the emotions excited by his writings, we are led to the con- 
clusion that he usually writes with tears in his eyes, but a 
certain magazine publisher, whose likeness accompanied one 
of the numbers of his magazine, can testify that his satire 
punishes like the sting of a scorpion. Read the following 
lines : — 

" A moony breadth of virgin face, 

By thought unviolateJ, 
A patient mouth to take from scorn 

The liook with bank-notes baited, — 
Its self-complacent sleekness shows 

How thrift goes with the fawner , 
An Tinctuous vmconcern for all. 

Which nice folks call di^onor." 

An eminent statesman will find it difficult to outlive the 
following; lines : — 



"o 



" So fallen, so lost ! the light withdrawn 
Which once he wore ! 
The glory from his grey hairs gone 
For ever more. 



136 . CRAYON SESTCHES, AND 

" Let not the land once proud of him 
Insult him now, 
Nor brand with deeper shame his dim, 
dishonored brow. 

" But let its humbled sons instead, 
From sea to lake, 
A long lament as for the dead, 
In sadness make 

" Then pay the reverence of old days 
To his dead fame ; 
Walk backward with averted gaze, 
And hide the shame." 

Whittier's poetry is eloquence measured witli a golden reed, 
verse on fire, pathos crying in tbe notes of the nightingale, 
philosophy playing on the harp, humor laughing in numbers, 
wit rained down from heaven in a shower of stars. His writ- 
ino-s are not free from imperfections of style and sentiment ; 
but men seldom notice pebbles, while looking at the lights 
in the cerulean arch above. He is the author of several 
volumes of prose, which are widely circulated. His verses are 
full of philosophy, beauty, and sublimity. He sympathizes 
with the unfortunate, and chastises the oppressor with a whip 
of adders. In some of his patriotic appeals he reminds us of 
the old prophets. Had Isaiah lived in these times, he might 
have written the following lines without impairing his reputa 
tion ; — 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. ^37 

/ 
" Now, by out fathers' ashes ! where's the spirit 

Of the true-hearted and the unshackled gone ? 

Sons of the old freemen, do we but inherit 

Their iianies alone ? 

" Is the old Pilgrim spirit quenched within us ? 
Stoops the proud manhood of our souls so low, 
That mammon's lure or party's wile can win ua 
To silence now ? 

" No ! When our land to ruin's brink is verging, 
In God's name let us speak while there is time ! 
Now, when the padlocks for our lips are forging, 
Silence is Crime ! " 

Some of his best poems have been published in beautiful 
style in Boston lately, but the work is so expensive the masses 
are not able to buy it. His writings do not need such costly 
embellishments to be appreciated, any more than the sun 
needs a stained window through which to shine. The lark 
and the nightingale need not the costume of the peacock to 
ensure admiration. 

Mr. Whittier is one of the editors of the " National Era " 
and I may say, in a whisper, to the ladies, he is a — bachelor 

The reader is here presented with a short specimen of Mr. 
Whittier's prose composition. 

AN INCIDENT OF THE INDIAN WAK OF 1695. 

" The township of Haverhill, even as late as the close of 
the seventeenth century, was a frontier settlement, occupying 
an advanced position in the great wilderness, which, unbroken 



IS8 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

by iixQ clearing of a white man, extended from the Merrimack 
riv^r to the French villages on the river St Francois. A tra, -t 
of twelve miles on the river and three or four northwardly 
was .occupied by scattered settlers, while in the centre of the 
town s compact village of some thirty houses had grown up. 
In the immediate vicinity there were but few Indians, and 
these generally peaceful and inoflfensive. On the breaking 
out of the Narragausett war, the inhabitants had erected 
fortificaUons, and taken other measures for defence ; but, 
with the horrible exception of one man, who was found slain 
in the wo-xis in 1676, none of the inhabitants were molested ; 
and it was not until about the year 1689, that the safety of 
the settlement was seriously threatened. Three persons were 
killed in that year. In 1690, six garrisons were established 
in different parts of the town, with a small company of 
soldiers attached to each. Two of these houses are still 
standing. They were built of brick, two stories high, with a 
single outside door, so small and narrow that but one person 
could enter at a time ? the windows few, and only about two 
and a half feet long by eighteen inches wide, with thick 
diamond glass, secured with lead, and crossed inside with 
bars of iron. The basement had but two rooms, and the 
chamber was entered by a ladder instead of stairs, so that the 
inmates, if driven thither, could cut off communication with 
the rooms below. Many private houses were strengthened 
and fortified. We remember one, familiar to our boyhood, a 
venerable old building of wood, with brick between tha 
weatherboards and ceiling, with a massive balustrade over tha 



OFF-HAND TAaINGS. 139 

door, constructed of oak timber and plank, with holes through 
the latter for firing upon assailants. The door opened upon a 
stone-paved hall or entry, leading into the huge single room 
of the basement, which was lighted by two small windows ; 
the ceiling black with the smoke of a century and a half— a 
huge fire-place, calculated for eight-foot wood, occupying one 
entire siae — while overhead, suspended from the timbers, or 
on shelves fastened to them, were household stores, farming 
utensils, fishing rods, guns, bunches of herbs, gathered perhaps 
a century ago, strings of dried apples and pumpkins, links of 
mottled sausages, spare-ribs, and flitches of bacon ; the fire- 
light of an evening dimly revealing the checked woollen 
coverlet of the bed in one far-off" corner — and in another, 

" ' the pewter plates on the dresser 



Caught and reflected the flame as shields of armies the sunshine.' 

"Tradition has preserved many incidents of life in the 
garrisons. In times of unusual peril, the settlers generally 
resorted at night to the fortified houses, taking thither their 
flocks and herds, and such household valuables as were most 
likely to strike the fancy or minister to the comfort or vanity 
of the heathen marauders. False alarms were frequent. The 
smoke of a distant fire, the bark of a dog in the deep woods, 
a stump or bush, taken in the uncertain light of stars and 
moon for the appearance of a man, were suflScient to spread 
alarm through the entire settlement, and to cause the armed 
men of the garrison to pass whole nights in sleepless watching. 

" It is said that at Haseltine's garrison-house, the sentinel on 



140 CRAYON SKETCHES, AKD 

duty saw, as he thought, an Indian inside of the pahng which 
surrounded the building, and apparently seeking to gain an 
entrance. He promptly raised his musket and fired at the 
intruder, alarming thereby the entire garrison. The women 
and children left their beds, and the men seized their guns, 
and commenced firing on the suspicious object, but it seemed 
to bear a charmed life and remained unharmed. As the 
morning dawned, however, the mystery was solved by the 
discovery of a black quilted petticoat hanging on the clothes 
line, completely riddled with balls." 






OFF-HAND TAKINGS, 141 



WASHINGTON IRVING. 

It is really surprising that a country so young as America, 
can count so many men of extraordinary talent and true 
genius. I know that unappreciating asses and conceited 
ascetics, who glory in denouncing the land they disgrace, tell 
us, with all the gravity of ignorant and impertinent assurance, 
that there are no great men (of course they except them- 
selves) in the United States, as though intellect was bounded 
by state lines, or blighted by the atmosphere on this side the 
Atlantic. To such an extent have the unthinking masses 
caught this infection of contempt for their own countrymen, 
that poets and preachers, actors and authors, of all degrees of 
talent, are, comparatively, unrecognised until they have been 
endorsed by an European reputation. Indeed, this remark 
applies to persons who aie not devoted to literary pursuits. 
If a man would succeed in sailing a boat, or picking a 
lock, or mowing a field of grain, his fortune is made when 
England acknowledges the superiority of his skill, and it is 
much to the credit of the mother country, that she is ever 
ready to acknowledge the peculiar gifts and graces of her 
transatlantic rival. 

We are indebted to famous old England for the discovery 
that Cooper and Irving were men of true genius, and that the 
latter could write in a style which would be no discredit to 
GoldisroiUi. When Dickens was in this country, he paid a 



142 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

very handsome and merited compliment to the celebrated 
author of the " Alhambra " and " Knickerbocker." I begac 
by alluding to men and "women of genius, with the intention 
of glancing at a few of them, but I must postpone that plea- 
sant task for the present, and proceed at once with my sketch 
of the American Goldsmith, I know not among his own 
countrymen, any author with whom to compare him. He 
has more polish and less wit than Paulding; he is not so 
much given to detail, and has greater wealth of imagery than 
Cooper ; he lias a smoother style, and a more fascinating 
manner than Hawthorne ; and is no more like Emerson, than 
a candle is like a comet. In many points he is unlike the 
author of the " Vicar of Wakefield." Goldsmith was bashful, 
awkward, and of ordinary personal appearance ; Irving has 
the assurance of a well-bred gentleman, is graceful in his 
manners and movements, and his form of perfect proportion 
is surmounted by a magnificent head and handsome face. 
Notwithstanding these and other dissimilarities, their style is 
alike. There is the same glowing rhetoric, the same opulence 
of illustration, the same perfection of finish. This is not the 
result of education ; there has been no effort to imitate the 
conversational ease, the tender shiftings, the pleasant pathos, 
the gentle sportiveness, the splendid raillery of Goldsmith. 

Irving excels in " literary light horsemanship ;" he never 
stops to argue his case, and yet there is a meaning and a 
depth in his philosophy, which answers the purpose of the 
most elaborate logic ; and here I may be permitted to say, that 
not a few of our writers who are now in active service, and 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 143 

who make no pretensions whatever to prove then* positions by 
mathematical demonstration, give the appreciative reader that 
proof which sinks lower and weighs heavier than the profound- 
est argument. Read some of the best things by N. P. Willis, 
and he has written some of the best things in the English 
language, and you will find sermons in a sentence, poems in 
parentheses, scattered with princely profusion over the works 
which come from his prolific pen. Yet, Mr. Willis is not a 
metaphysician, he is not a sermonizer, not a discussionist, but 
he has the genius to invent, and the pluck to print what he 
discovers, without waiting to hunt up mouldy precedents to 
sustain him. I have noticed more originality often in a sin- 
gle page of the " Home Journal," than I have found in tho 
next octavo that I perseveringly waded through. This is but 
a single instance to show that conviction does not always 
depend on solid argument, and that sound philosophy is not 
necessarily excluded from the works of those who write, 
because they cannot help it ; men, whose impulses are often 
more reliable than the intellect of those who weigh every 
word, and use square and compass on every sentence, before 
tliey venture to feed those who are hungering and thirsting 
after knowledge. 

The popularity of Irving arises principally from the fact, 
that while his style is elegant, and his thoughts are full of 
suggestions, he does not soar above the comprehension of the 
mass of readers, while he never fails to gratify the refined 
taste of the most fastidious, and satisfy the demand of tha 
best thinkers. 



144 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

Being of the sanguine, nervous temperament, lie imparts 

the thrilling glow of his exuberant nature to the rich 

productions of his magic pen, so that the reader becomes 

intensely interested ; indeed, one almost feels the author's 

heart throbbing at the point of his pen, and the pulse beating 

in every paragraph ; he is genial as the light, and when he 

puts forth an intellectual eflfort, it seems as though his soul 

arose like a sun in his breast, shedding warmth, and light, 

and beauty, on the enchanting page. His readers, not only 

admire his genius but love the man ; his humor is so amiable, 

his pathos so touching, and his philosophy so true to nature, 

that he commands our affection, while he irresistibly compels 

our attention. Then, again, his cordial greeting, his constant 

urbanity, his genuine courtesy, his gentlemanly address, and 

his spotless character, all contribute to form life-lasting 

friendships. Who ever heard any one speak contemptuously 

of Washington Irving ? Everybody acquainted with his 

writings desire him all the happiness and all the success he 

aimed at. Such flexibility of style, such purity of sentiment, 

such perfection of finish, is rarely found in prose writers of 

the present day. Who has such richness of ideality, such 

copiousness of language, such exuberance of fancy? His 

writings are chaste as the snow, and surpassingly beautiful in 

their elegant uniformity. 

His physical organization is perfect. Although now quite 
advanced in life, he is erect as a palm tree, and walks with 
the elastic vigor of a young man. He is not above the com- 
mon size, of ordinary stature, with a contemplative cast of face, 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 145 

dark liair, dark complexion, and dark pensive eyes, wliich 
kindle when he becomes interested in conversation. Speci- 
mens of his style may be found in all our books of choice 
prose selections. 

The following is from a beautiful work, entitled " Homes 
and Haunts of American Authors :" — 

" Washington Irving, although so obviously adapted by 
natural endowments for the career in which he has acquired 
such eminence, was educated, like many men of letters, for 
the legal profession ; he, however, early abandoned the idea 
of practice at the bar for the more lucrative vocation of a 
merchant. His brothers were established in business, in the 
city of New York, and invited him to take an interest in 
their house, with the understanding that his literary tastes 
should be gratified by abundant leisure. The unfortunate 
crisis in mercantile affairs that followed the peace of 1815, 
involved his family, and threw him upon his own resources for 
subsistence. To this apparent disaster is owing his subse- 
quent devotion to literature. The strong bias of his own 
nature, however, had already indicated his destiny ; his 
inaptitude for affairs of business, his sensibility to the 
beautiful, his native humor, and the love he early exhibited 
for wandering, observing, and indulging in day dreams, would 
infallibly have led him to record his fancies and his feelings. 

" Indeed, he had already done so with effect, in a series of 
letters, which appeared in a newspaper of which his brother 
was editor. His tendency to a free, meditative, and adven- 
turous life, was confirmed by his visit to Europe, in early 

7 



146 CRArON SKETCHES, AND 

youth. Born in the city of New York, on the 3d of April, 
1783, he pursued his studies, his rambles, and occasional 
pencraft there, until 1804, when ill health made it expedient 
for him to go abroad. He sailed for Bordeaux, and thence 
i-oamed over the most beautiful portions of southern Europe, 
visited Switzerland and Holland, sojourned in Paris, and 
returned home in 1806. In 1809, 'Knickerbocker's History 
of New York, appeared, then followed the ' Sketch Book,' 
' Bracebridge Hall,' ' Tales of a Traveller,' ' Life of Columbus,' 
' Conquest of Granada,' ' Alhambra,' &c. He was afterwards 
appointed Secretary of Legation to the American Embassy, in 
London, which office he held until the return of Mr. McLane, 
in 1831. During his stay in England, he received one of the 
fifty guinea gold medals, provided by George IV., for emi- 
nence in historical composition and the degree of LL. D. 
from the University of Oxford ; on his return to New York, 
in 1832, he was welcomed by a festival. 

" He afterwards wrote the ' Tour on the Prairies,' 
' Newstead Abbey,' ' Legends of ^pain,' ' Astoria,' ' The Adven- 
tures of Captain Bonneville,' and other works, and is now 
engaged on the ' Life of Washington.' " 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. M7 



G. W. BETIIUNE. 

By refering to Griswold's popular and beautiful book of 
Ajnerican Poetry I find that the Rev. George. W. Bethune, 
the poet and the preacher, was born in the Empire State. His 
reputation as a scholar and an orator are such as to render his 
name quite familiar to American citizens, in all parts of this 
Confederacy. He is the author of several volumes of literary 
and religious discourses, which are as much distinguished aa 
his poems, by a genial loving spirit, and a classical elegance of 
diction. In 1847 he edited an edition of Walton's Ansrler. 
supplying many ingenious and learned notes, and in the same 
year he published a volume of " Lays of Love and Faith." 
The following graphic sketch I have been permitted to copy 
in advance of publication from a splendid work now in press 
in Boston. The work to which the writer is so deeply indebted 
is entitled the " Church-goer ;" it is from the pen of my friend 
Dr. J. R. Dix, a sketch of whom may be found in another 
portion of this volume — and here I will venture the prediction 
that his series of pulpit sketches will have an immense circula- 
tion in this country. The allusion to the English clergymen* 
in the following extract, although by no means disrespectful, 
offended one of our Yankee aristocrats to such an extent that 

♦ llie articles were published first in a weekly periodical in Boston. 



148 CRATOK SKETCHES, AND 

he foolishly exhibited his bad temper and worse taste hj 
denouncing the writer and the publisher. 

" There he stands, and so let him for a few moments, whilst 
the reporters are sharpening their pencils — the people settling 
down in their places, and your humble servant ' all eye all ear.' 
"Externally, Dr. George W. Bethune is of the portly, parso- 
nic order, and in respect of adipose matter he forms a very 
striking contrast to the reverend gentleman upon whom, the 
reader will remember, I accidentally stumbled in Philadelphia. 
He was none of your lean, hungry, ascetic looking men, such 
for instance as was in appearance the late Moses Stuart, who, 
when I saw him in his dusty old study at Andover, looked as 
musty and as dry as any of the 'Fathers' on his shelves. 
No, the Doctor rather reminded me of that sleek and oily 
gentleman. Friar Tuck, whose very name is suggestive of 
venison pasties and ' dainty bits of warden pie.' Neither did 
he at all provoke remembrances of certain hard-working 
Curates. Far from it ; he was of the Bishop order — that sort 
of bishop I mean who holds a fat diocese, and dispenses di- 
vinity in lawn sleeves. Mind, I speak only of externals, for I 
believe that very few of the old British bishops to whom I 
refer are, so far as mental endowments or usefulness are con- 
cerned, at all comparable with our orator of the Phi Beta 
Kappa. 

" Dr. Bethune's face possesses a shrewd but certainly not a 
highly intellectual expression — it .is too fleshy for that. The 
forehead is broad, but not high ; and on its summit the long, 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. * 149 

'.ight colored straiglit hair is parted in the centre and combed 
back behind the ears. The eyes are of a greyish or bhieish 
tint, and rather small. The nose is short, and the mouth 
large — too" large indeed for symmetry, and the plump cheeks 
are whiskerless. After what was just now said, the reader 
will be prepared for a double chin, a considerable amplitude 
of waistcoat, and for a stomach like that which Shakspeare 
described as ' capon lined.' Altogether, on surveying the 
Doctor, you would at once pronounce him to be ' something 
out of the common,' whilst his unaffected and offhand manner 
would convince you that no one was farther removed from any- 
thing like the consciousness thereof, or of affectation of any 
kind, than himself. 

" Dr. Bethime's oratory is chaste, poetical and glowing. A 
ripe scholar, his sermons are always models of style ; and 
without too much elaboration, they possess exquisite finish. 
Some of his discourses remind us of a polished shaft crowned 
with its graceful capital of carved acanthus leaves, symmetry, 
elegance, and firmness, all combining to form a perfect whole. 
If they do not exhibit the profound thought that characterizes 
the sermons of a Hall or a Boardman, they exhibit the flowers 
of oratory in all their beauty and glory. His command of 
language is great, — he at times displays even an affluence of 
diction, and an opulence of imagery. A shrewd observer of 
men and manners, he is fond of shooting folly as it flies, and 
when it so pleases him he can be as sarcastic as Randolph, or 
as sour as Burgess. The ' shams' of the day are his abhor- 
rence, and he fearlessly attacks them. No man has a highe/ 



150 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

respect for the ' powers that be,' but no minister ' holds his 
own' so independently, or with more dignity sustains his 
sacred oflSce. His descriptive passages remind us somewhat 
of the verbal grandeurs of Croly, the author of ' The Angel 
of the World,' and the Rector of St. Stephen's, Walbrook, 
London. The last time I heard that distinguished English 
Divine, his subject was one which led him to refer incidentally 
to the splendors of Ancient Nineveh, the city whose long- 
buried glories have since been revealed by Layard. Certainly 
such a magnificent specimen of word-painting I never before 
heard. Listening to him was like reading scenes from his own 
gorgeous, eloquent ' Salathiel,' or perusing the Apocalypse by 
flashes of lightning ! With a marvellous pomp of language 
he described the glories of the now ruined cities, and with 
amazing fluency heaped splendor on splendor, until, as the eye 
grows dazzled by gazing on the changing glories of a tropic 
sunset, when clouds of amber and vermilion, piled on each 
other, assume a thousand fantastic shapes, so the mind became 
almost overwhelmed by his many and superb illustrations. 
Thus is it sometimes in the case of Dr. Bethune, Occasionally 
he over-colors his pulpit pictures, so that in place, as it were, 
of the delicious harmony of a Claude, we now and then behold 
the extravagant gorgeousness with which Tm-ner used to cover 
his canvass. 

" Dr. Bethune well supports the dignity of the pulpit. He 
appears to feel that it is no place for trumpery show, or idle 
display. He commands respect as well by his manner as his 
natter. He uses but little action, and that is always graceful 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 151 

— as graceful indeed as it can be, when we remember that he 
confines himself to his notes. Did he preach extemporaneously 
he would be far more effective. Alas ! for written discourses, 
what they gain in correctness they lose in warmth. When 
will ministers fling their manuscripts away and trust to the 
inspiration of the moment ? There is to me something 
supremely ridiculous in a man's clutching the leaves of his 
sermon book with one hand, for fear he should lose his place, 
whilst with the other he is frantically beating empty air ! It 
is like a bird with a lame wing, or a race horse with a fettered 
hoof. I question whether Wesley or Whitefield would have 
produced a tithe of the efiect they did, had they read their 
sermons. It is a pedantic, mind-cramping, inspiration-destroy- 
ing practice, and the less we have of it the better. For my 
own part, I would rather hear the humblest preacher ' out of 
book,' than the most admired minister who is tied to his 
written lines. Some folks may sneer at my taste perhaps — 
let them. I do not of course advocate unstudied sermons, 
for I take it to be an insult to any congi-egation for a minister 
to go into the pulpit unprepared. What I deprecate is, the 
dull, dry system of reading, and often of badly reading, a 
coldly correct composition — a consequence of which is, that 
there is seldom a spark of genuine feeling elicited from the 
time the text is announced until a final ' Amen ' closes the 
dreary discourse. 

" Dr. Bethune is an author. Scattered among hyinn books 
and annuals we find some very charming productions from his 
pen. Griswold, in his ' Poets and Poetry of America, 



152 

assies to him a niche which I scarcely know whether to con 
sider an honor or otherwise. For, turning over the leaves of 
the same compilation, I noticed the other day that from 
amongst the works of another ' poet,' of America, who also 
has a place given him in this walhalla of harmony, the Doctor 
had extracted, as a specimen of ' poetry,' a strange description 
of a captain, who, when his alarmed passengers were 

" ' busy at their prayers ' 

in the cabin, behaved in the most unseaman-like way, for we 
are told that 

" ' We are lost,' the captain shouted, 
As he staggered down the stairs !' 

" Now this may be suggestive of drunkenness and piety, but 
certainly not of poetry ; and so we may doubt whether to be 
magnified in Griswold is any great compliment after all. 
Seriously, though, Dr. Bethune is, if not a great bard, a very 
pleasing poet of the Alaric A. Watts school, and to prove it 
we here insert the following stanzas : — 

TO MY WIFE. 

" Away from thee ! the morning breaks, 

But morning brings no joy to me ; 
Alas ! my spirit only wakes 

To know that I am afar from thee ; 
In dreams I saw thy blessed face, 

And thou wert nestled on my breast ; 
In dreams I felt thy fond embrace, 

And to mine own thy heart was pressed 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. l£j 

"Afar from thee ! 'tis solitude! 

Though smiling crowds around me be, 
The kind, the beautiful, the good, 

For I can only think of thee ; 
Of thee, the kindest, loveliest, best, 

My earliest and my only one ; 
Without thee, I am all unblest, 

And wholly blest with thee alone. 

" Afar from thee ! the words of praise 

My listless ear unheeded greet ; 
What sweetest seemed in better days, 

Without thee seems no longer sweet 
The dearest joy fame can bestow. 

Is in thy moistened eye to see, 
And in thy cheek's imusual glow, 

Thou deem'st me not im worthy thee 

" Afar from thee ! the night is come. 

But sltunbers from my pillow flee ; 
Oh ! who can rest so far from home ? 

And my heart's home is, love, with thM. 
I kneel me down in silent prayer, 

And then, I know that thou art nigh ; 
For God, who seest everywhere. 

Bends on us both his watchful eye. 

" Together in his lov'd embrace. 

No distance can our hearts divide; 
Forgotten quite the mediate space, 

I kneel thy kneeling form beside. 

7* 



l04 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

My tranquil frame then sinks to sleep, 

But soars the spirit far and free ; 
Oh ! welcome be night's slumbers deep, 

For then, sweet love, I am with thee. 

" Besides poems, Dr. Bethune has made some valu .o^ix- 
tributions to literature, both in theological and scientific paths. 
His orations and occasional discourses, says one of his re- 
viewers, show that " he is a man of large and generous views, 
uniting to the attainments of the scholar a profound know- 
ledge of mankind. In discourses prepared for public occasions, 
it is almost impossible that allusions, more or less direct, and 
more or less connected with the occasion — to the institutions, 
the policy, the legislation of the country, and the duties of its 
citizens — should not often occur. Dr. Bethune's political 
philosophy is liberal and enlightened; it is the uncompro- 
mising application of Christian morality to public life, and there 
is no nobler and truer political philosophy than this. One of 
the most remarkable discourses in this volume is that entitled 
' The Claims of our Country on its Literary Men.' We could 
wish that it might be read attentively by all those in our coun- 
try who devote themselves to letters, whether in the retirement 
of our academic institutions, or in the houra snatched from 
other pursuits. Its wise counsels are expressed in a manly 
style, and sometimes with eloquence. 

" The Doctor is the author of the Introduction to Walton 
and Cotton's Angler, which is prefixed to the best American 
edition of that charming work, and few are able to " whip 
the water " with more success than the pastor of the Dutch 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 155 

Refcrmed Church in Brooklyn. In this ' contemplativa 
man's recreation,' as good quaint old Izaak hath it, he is not, 
in my opinion, overstepping the proprieties of parson-hood, 
for were not Peter and James and Simon fishermen ? Some 
caviller may say — ' Aye, but they were piscatorial for a living.^ 
No matter, we think Dr. Bethune may preach all the better 
for an occasional ramble by the running brooks, for such 
souls as his can find ' good in everything.' Doubtless he has 
studied many a sermon with rod and reel in hand, and quite 
as useful ones as if they had been painfully composed with 
some of the musty old Fathers on one side of him, and a heap 
of dusty Commentators on the other. As I have intimated, 
Dr. Bethune is the pastor of a Dutch Reformed Church, in 
Brooklyn, N. Y. The edifice is new and handsome, and the 
congregation rather fashionable, I believe, but of such matten 
I know little and care less." 



156 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



E. P. WHIPPLE. 

During the past week tlie weather has been summer-like. 
It seemed as though the sky stooped down to clasp the earth 
in its blue arms, and when night came with its thousand eyes, 
it seemed but a step from sod to star. 

Winter paid us a visit to-day, and furnished us with a 
pattern of the white dress she intends to wear this season. 
Owing to the unwalkable condition of the streets, and the 
threatening aspect of the skies, the audience was not so large 
as usual at the Music Hall. By the time the first comers had 
devoured the contents of the evening papers, E. P. Whipple, 
the justly celebrated critic, essayist, and lecturer, made his 
appearance, I had often seen him in my walks about the 
city, and wondered who he was. I knew by his step aud 
look, that he was no ordinary man. 

He is a short, slender person, with a superbly developed 
head, a white, high, broad forehead, smooth brown hair, parted 
carefully and brushed behind his ears, large star-like eyes, 
flashing with magnetism, a thin, pale, sickly face, written all 
over with thought-marks, A little strip of white collar 
turned over a black neck-cloth, having the appearance of a 
large snow flake fresh from the clouds, was about his neck, 
the black neck-cloth was rounded as gracefully as one of his 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. IS"/ 

own periods, and tied as handsomely as though some of his 
rhetoric had been woven into silk and fastened there. Mr. 
Whipple speaks distinctly, in a sharp, nervous, energetic 
manner, with a graceful, yet monotonous gesticulation, 
emphasizing every dozen words with a jerk of the head and 
a swing of the arm, as though he were pumping the blood 
from the vitals to the brain. Indeed, his head is a large 
reservoir of a stream of vitals, too slender to supply the 
demand of the brain. If one could just chop off Van * * * * 
head (it would be a small loss, you know), and put Whipple's 
cranium on his broad shoulders, under his great heaving 
lungs, there would be animal power sufficient to work the 
mental mill, which at present has too much machinery to 
operate well. (It would be necessary to change hearts also.) 
Then how his voice would ring, and chime, and toll — start- 
ling, cheering, and aweing his hearers. How his great eyes 
would flash with human lightning. How he would wing his 
thunder-bolts with electricity. Now his weak voice staggers 
under the heavy load of his Titan thoughts. Now his white 
cheeks cannot call sufficient blood from his heart to redden 
them in the midst of a storm of excitement. He thinks too 
much, and acts too little. Were he to study less and ramble 
more, he would not thus offer his body a living sacrifice on 
the altar of literature. Let him exchange Parnassus for 
Wachusetts — the Elysian fields of belles lettres for Boston 
Common, the fount of Helicon for Cochituate Lake, the 
society of the Gods for the society of Men, he would enjoy 
better health and have a stronger body, and propelling power 



158 CRAYON SKETCnES, AND 

enough to work his brain-mil. to better advantage. Mr. 
"Whipple is an effective writer, an honest critic, a brilliant 
essayist. Although not more than thirty years of age, he has 
eaten more libraries than a University could digest in one 
generation. He is an encyclopedia individualized, and seems 
to be thoroughly familiar with history, science, art, agriculture, 
geology, theology, poetry, and almost everything else desirable 
to know. This evening he gave us a splendid lecture on 
Heroism. Were I to give you its beauties, I should have to 
quote the whole of it. It was packed full of meaning, terse, 
vigorous, classical, and original; beautiful in language and 
mighty in thought. He is an earnest man — who speaks with 
the authority of a prophet, and labors with the zeal of an 
Apostle. He says Milton was a hero, who plucked out his 
eyes and laid them on the altar of his country's weal. So I 
say Whipple is a hero, who tears out his vitals and offers 
them a sacrifice at the shrines of science. 

The interest enkindled at the commencement of his lecture 
is constantly kept up by the beauty and grandeur of his 
images, and the life-like pictures that hang up on the walls 
of his memory. We see Jupiter nodding on the summit of 
Olympus. Hercules lifting his club. Apollo stringing his 
bow. Neptune swaying his trident. Bacchus draining his 
goblet, and Mammon grasping his gold. The fictions of 
mythology, the facts in history, and the truths of religion, are 
skilfully employed to interest and inform the listener. Mr 
Whipple is a man of ardent enthusiasm and vivid imagination. 
He has a keen relish for the elegancies of art, and the 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 159 

beauties of nature. He has a ready appreciation of the pro 
prieties of language, thought, and manners, as established bj 
the usages of society, and a refined sympathy with the best 
sentiments of the purest intellects, hence he is a critic. He 
has been brought up, not with a silver spoon, but a book in 
his mouth, and has acquired such a command of the best 
language, he is able to give us " thoughts that breathe, in words 
that burn ;" hence he is a lecturer. 

In the commencement of his lecture, he gave us a graphic 
sketch of the sneak ; he then defined heroism, and afterwards 
described the hero soldier, the hero patriot, the hero reformer 
and the hero Christian. If the enterprising and enlightened 
people of * * * * desire to hear one of the best lectures of 
the season from the faithful lips of one of our first men, let 
them forthwith secure the invaluable services of Mr, Whipple. 
I have the impression that Mr. W. is a native of Massachusetts, 
of humble parentage, and that he is self-taught. When quite 
young, he secured a situation as clerk in a large library, 
where he had ample opportunities for intellectual culture. At 
the meeting, I noticed an unappreciating goose of a girl, 
directly in front of him, who had the bad manners to open 
her book and read during the delivery of some of the richest 
portions of the lecture. An unappreciating ass of a man also 
hissed him when he said Louis Napoleon was a sneak and not 
a hero. One dear little woman was so pleased she laughed 
and nodded and looked from side to side, where she saw 
scores of sympathizers. The following extracts from hia 
lecture will give an idea of his style : — 



160 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

" The noblest and most exliilarating objects the human 
mind could contemplate were," he said, " those which exhibited 
the mind in an exalted aspect. Heroes inspired our weakness 
with the energy of their strength, and taught us to feel that 
we, not they, were unnatural ; that nature, obstructed in 
common men, appeared unchecked in them. They were so 
filled with the wine of life-^they had, in Fletcher's phrase, 
' so much of man thrust into them ' — that they appeared in 
colossal proportions. Heroism was genius in action. 

"This principle was no sparkling epigram of action, but 
gradually developed itself in the mind until it rose to action. 
There was a unity between the will and the intelligence of the 
Hero. He was not perched upon a giddy height of thought, 
but stood upon the table of human character and action. 
Opposition tended but to call out the qualities of his courage, 
and urged him on through all impediments. His eye ever 
had the impression of looking into the distance. No fear of 
death disturbing him ; it was lost in the intensity of his life. 

" In the heroism of the soldier, glory was the absorbing 
idea. It was this which distinguished the man from the brute 
in the bloody field. Glory made the grim battle-field seem as 
a vision of youth to the warrior's eye. In such men as 
Bayard, this principle of glory was sublime ; in men like 
Napoleon the idea degenerated into a thirst after universal 
fame. 

" The Patriot Hero took a place above the soldier. He was 
self sacrificing, elevated, and inspired with a love of eountry 
that made death sweet in her service. The idea and senti 



OFF-UAND TAKINGS. 161 

ment of country was felt in his heart, and dilated his indi 
viduality to the size of the national individuality. He 
regarded every wrong to his country as a wrong to himself. 

" The Reformer felt the full force of the responsibility that 
rested upon him, when the seed of reformation was dropped 
into his heart to be nurtured into action. Many were the 
obstacles against which he has to contend ; and not least the 
accusations of those whom he was sacrificing himself to 
benefit. Heroism," continued the lecturer, " was distinguished 
by a principle positive of love — not of negative hate. They 
might be soldiers, patriots and reformers, but not Heroic, 
except by a principle of love. It was love of his own country, 
not hatred of any other, Avhich made the heroic patriot ; nor 
was it fear or hate of hell, but love of God, which made 
the heroic saint. This latter was the highest degree 
of heroism, but yet it was a kind of heroism not eagerly 
coveted nor zealously approved. The patriot of the Heavenly 
Kingdom was the true pilgi-im. The still, deep ecstasy 
which imparadised his spirit, could but ill describe itself 
in words. Its full power could only be seen in the vir- 
tues which it created; in the triumphant faith which defied 
the pains of the rack, and lifted the spirit above the world. 
He regretted his deficiencies, in trying to paint the character 
of Heroism for them. From a consideration of its records 
they would rise, not as from memories of the past, but livin« 
forces of the present, which would graft upon the mind its 
deathless energies." 



1G2 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



G. C. HEBBE. 

During my short stay at the city of Washington, I availed 
myself of an opportunity, afforded by a letter of introduction, 
to call and see the renowned Dr. G. C. Hebbe. He is so well 
known at the capitol of our country, I found little difficulty 
in ascertaining his whereabouts. After threading my way as 
best I could through the crowd that occupied the spacious 
sidewalks (for I happened to hit upon a time when multitudes 
were hungering after the loaves and fishes of office), I 
ascended a flight of stone steps in front of a private house, 
and pulled the bell, which brought an immediate response. 

" Does Dr. Hebbe board here ?" I inquired. 

" He does," was the reply from a modest waiting maid. 

" I should like to have this letter presented to him." 

" Walk in, sir, if you please," said the servant, and 
hastened to the apartment occupied by the author it is my 
intention to sketch. In a few moments came a request for the 
writer to visit him in his study. I met him at the door, 
where he gave me a cordial greeting, free from affectation, and 
full of that heartiness which is one of his peculiar character- 
istics. After announcing the object of my visit, he very 
generously volunteered to render any assistance in his power. 
He had the kindness to offer me letters of introduction to 



t. 




-JngriTeiljj J C S^t* 




^^ 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. IC.T 

several of the United States senatoi-s, with whom he was per 
sonally and intimately acquainted. I found him, on my 
second visit, buried in books, working \ngorously at something 
for his publishers, De Witt & Davenport. 

The Doctor's study is not a dusty garret, like those honored 
by some of our most celebrated writers of prose and poetry ; 
but a spacious, airy, neatly furnished apartment, commanding 
a fine view from its windows. 

The distinguished occupant of this apartment is a vigorous 
and classical writer, whose magical pen has multiplied friends 
to his party. Having had the advantage, in early youth, of 
the best schools and universities in the old world, and having 
further improved his mind by travel and intercourse with 
many of the first and best men in Europe, we need not be at 
all surprised that his fluent pen created the sensation it did, 
when he wrote his political pamphlets ; neither is it a matter 
of surprise, that when expatriated to this country, he at once 
was welcomed by the ablest writers of America, for his fame 
and his works had preceded him. Perhaps, no man in this 
country is so thoroughly famihar with ancient and modern 
history — certainly, no man in the United States has written so 
voluminously as he, on the intensely interesting subject of Uni- 
versal History. He is a profound philosopher, a deep thinker, 
a cogent reasoner, a caustic antagonist, and a never-tiring 
student. He never twangs his bow without piercing the mark 
with his arrow, which though sharp, is never pointed with 
poison. 

In person, he is tall, well proportioned ; has a fresh, healthy 



1G4 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

face (ladies pronounce him handsome) ; dark hair ; lofty 
forehead ; dark, dreamy eyes, which light up in conversation. 
He speaks and writes our language much better than a 
majority of even our literary men. The following letter which 
was written by a fiiend, gives a condensed and gi-aphic 
sketch of the life of this noted man, and with it I close 
this " taking." 

" Dr. Hebbe's family is originally from Bohemia ; where 
one of its members received a large landed estate, together 
with the title of Baron, in the tenth century, from the 
emperor, Henry the Fowler, on account of great military 
services in the war against the Magyars. In the sixteenth 
century, the family of Hebbe adopted the Protestant religion, 
and suffered terribly during the following century from the 
persecution of the Catholics. Thirteen of its members lost 
their life by the sword and the axe, and only two were saved ; 
one of whom rose to high military dignity in France. The 
other again entered the Swedish army, and was badly 
wounded in the battle of Lutzen. He came then to Sweden, 
where he bought large estates — having become very wealthy 
by his marriage with a Dutch lady, of immense riches. He 
had several children, all of whom became distinguished by 
high positions and wealth, as well as by noble traits of 
character. 

"Dr. Hebbe's grandfather married a Grecian lady of wonder- 
ful beauty, whose only daughter became afterwards, grand 
governess of the children of the unfortunate king, Gustavus 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 165 

Adolplius IV., of Sweden. His father distinguished himself 
in the senace of France — was severely wounded; married 
an Italian lady, and was reputed to be one of the most 
learned men of Europe. 

" Dr. Hebbe received a most accomplished education, and 
graduated with the greatest distinction at the celebrated 
University of Upsala, in Sweden, and became soon known as 
one of the most liberal minded men of his country. He 
visited many parts of the Orient world, and became, in a few 
years, known as the author of many of the most powerful 
political articles in several continental papers. He had, 
meanwhile, married a young lady of much genius and extra- 
ordinary mental abilities — and discharged, several times, the 
honorable duties of a judge, and became very popular. Ho 
was an intimate friend of the chief leaders of the opposition 
at the Swedish Diet, and was the chief instrument in defeat- 
ing the attempt of the king to extend his royal prerogatives. 
His administrative qualities recommended him, however, to 
the attention of the king, who offered him the management 
of all his private affairs and his immense landed property ; 
but this offer was most respectfully declined by Dr., or rather. 
Judge Hebbe, who was soon found to be one of the leaders 
in the revolutionary movement, which took place in 1838, 
and which led to the imprisonment of Judge Cresenstolpe 
and some other of the leaders, and the exile of Judge Hebbe 
and some others. 

"In 1843, Dr. Hebbe arrived in this country, where he 
soon became distinguished as the ablest political writer, in that 



166 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



then widely circulating periodical, called the 'New World,' and 
as author of several political pamphlets, and as the accom- 
plished translator of many of the finest works of fiction 
of the day. In 1848, he began the publication of his great 
' Universal History,' which has stamped him as a man of the 
most profound learning, the deepest philosophical mind, and 
the highest order of literary genius. This work will embrace 
twenty volumes, and has already cost its eloquent and high- 
minded author more than fifteen years of incredible labor. 

" Dr. Hebbe is one of the ablest Democratic leaders, and it 
is generally conceded that he did more than any other man 
for the triumphant election of Mr. Pierce. He numbers, per- 
haps, more warmly attached friends than any other man in 
this country; thanks to his afi"able manners and sweat 
temper." 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 167 



RUFUS CIIOATE. 

RuFus Choate is the Brougham of the Western World. 
He is not so profound a metaphysician nor so great a philoso- 
pher as the English Lord; but he is equally eloquent, and 
there is more lightning in his oratory. When he speaks, his 
black eyes glow with electricity, his hair stands erect, as though 
his Jiead were a galvanic battery, charging each individual 
hair with the subtile fluid. He is ftirious as a madman in his 
gestures, and not unfrequently tears his coat from the collar to 
the waist, when he becomes intensely excited. He walks from 
one end of the platform to the other, and swings his arms 
backwards and forwards as though he intended to take a leap 
into the middle of the room and land upon the heads of his 
hearers. If he ever should take a hop, step, and jump, in the 
midst of one of his orations, there would be danger of his 
tumbling down the throats of some of the gaping multitude, 
whose mouths are ever open to swallow every syllable he 
utters. No wonder the people gape and gaze with such as- 
tonishment and admiration, for he has such a beautiful gallery 
of pictures in the chambers of his imagination — such an 
affluence of language — so retentive a memory — such varied 
learning — such luminous eloquence and so eccentric a manner 
of delivery. Often, when he finishes a period in his most ener- 
getic style, the listener involuntarily looks up to see if the fiery 
bolt just launched from his lips, has not raised the roof, or at 



168 



least gone through the ceiling. It is as diflScult to report hia 
speeches, as it would be to report the trumpetings of the 
storm, with the moaning wind, the pattering rain, the vivid 
lightnings and the crashing of the thunders. He begins like 
an eagle soaring from his eyrie, and continues his upward 
flight over the mountain tops, up higher and still higher, and 
higher still, with the clouds under his feet and a crown of 
stars about his head ; and when he descends, he shines like 
Moses coming down from the mountain, and like him, he 
breaks the Commandments when he finds the people worship- 
ping the idol of another party. You may talk about torrents 
of eloquence — he is the very Niagara of eloquence, with the 
silver spray, the effulgent bow, and the wasteless waters foam- 
ing and flashing through a narrow channel of rocks. His 
speeches are brilliant with unmeasured poetry, and abouml 
in attic wit, biting invective, glowing rhetoric, and " logic on 
fire." " He can hew out a Colossus from a rock, or carve heads 
on cherry stones." He is not a glancing stream, fettered with 
ice half the year ; but a magnificent and mighty river, run- 
ning South ; and as he sweeps on, he swallows up allusions, 
quotations, figures, from Hesiod, and Homer, and Virgil, and 
Voltaire, and Shakspeare, and Milton, and Washington and 
Webster, still flowing on, 

" Like to the Pontic Sea, 
Whose current and compulsive course 
Never feels retiring ebb, but keeps right on 
To the Propontic and the Hellespont." 

To drop the figure and take up the fact, he has intensity of 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 



169 



purpose, and often allows his impulsiveness to control his 
judgment. Every great efibrt he makes at the Bar or on the 
rostrum, so excites his nervous system, that he cannot sleep 
sufficiently to satisfy the wants of his physical nature. But 
ho is fond of fame and of money, and seems determined to 
keep up his reputation and his revenue ; consequently, his 
services are available when fair opportunities are aflforded for 
the improvement of either. Yet he is not a mercenary man ; 
for, notwithstanding his vast practice, he has not secured 
a great fortune. His speeches sound better than they read. 
Indeed, it would not be gratifying to the vanity of him- 
self or his numerous friends to pass his extemporaneous 
speeches through the crucible of criticism. He skips from one 
topic to another with the agility of a squirrel, a fact unnoticed 
amid the blaze of his surpassing eloquence, until tlie storm 
has passed by and the fever is over, and then we behold the 
best a reporter can do in the columns of the newspaper. 

Mr. Choate is a dark complexioned, thin, cadaverous look- 
ing ir.an, with keen black eyes, and a profusion of unkempt 
hair, of a glossy black hue. He is between forty and fifty 
years of age, and of a nervous bilious temperament. He is 
a conservative Whig of the Webster school, and has made 
eloquent speeches recently upon the leading political questions 
of the day. Mr. Choate is one of the most popular orators 
of modern times. We have abler lawyers in America, but 
the Bar has not a more brilliant and successful advocate. 
We have more experienced statesmen, but few serve their 

countiy with more fervid zeal. It is indeed a rich treat to 

8 



IVO CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

listen to the gorgeous words which drop from his lips like 
apples of gold in pictures of silver. 

We subjoin a specimen of his style of oratory, taken from 
a discourse, delivered before the Faculty, Students, and 
Alumni of Dartmouth College, on the day preceding Com- 
mencement, July 2Vth, 1853, commemorative of Daniel 

Webster. 

RUFUS CHOATE ON DANIEL WEBSTER. 

" It would be a strange neglect of a beautiful and approved 
custom of the schools of learning, and of one of the most 
pious and appropriate of the offices of literature, if the col- 
lege in which the intellectual life of Daniel Webster began, 
and to which his name imparts charm and illustration, shoulJ 
give no formal expression to her grief in the common sorrow ; if 
she should not draw near, one of the most sad, in the procession 
of the bereaved, to the tomb at the sea, nor find, in her classic 
shades, one affectionate and grateful leaf to set in the garland 
with- which they have bound the brow of her child, the 
mightiest departed. Others mourn and praise him by his 
more distant and more general titles to fame and remem- 
brance ; his supremacy of intellect, his statesmanship of so 
many years, his eloquence of reason and of the heart, his love 
of country, incorruptible, conscientious, and ruling every hour 
and act; that greatness combined of genius, of character, 
of manner, of place, of achievement, which was just now 
among us, and is not, and yet hves still and evermore. You 
come, his cherishing mother, to own a closer tie, to indulge 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. lYl 

an emotion more personal and more fond — grief and exulta- 
tion contending for mastery, as in the bosom of the desolated 
parent, whose tears could not hinder him from exclaiming 
' I would not exchange my dead son for any living one of 
Christendom.' 

* * * * 

'• ' With prospects bright, upon the world he came— 
Pure love of virtue, strong desire of fame; 
Men watched the way his lofty mind would take, 
Ajid all foretold the progress he would make.' 

" And yet, if on some day as that season was drawing to 
its close, it had been foretold to him, that before his life — 
prolonged to little more than threescore years and ten — 
should end, he should see that country, in which he was 
coming to act his part, expanded across a continent; the 
thirteen states of 1801 multiplied to thirty-one; the territory 
of the Northwest and the great valley below sown full of those 
stars of empire ; the Mississippi forded, and the Sabine, and 
Rio Grande, and the Nueces ; the ponderous gates of the 
Rocky Mountains opened to shut no more ; the great tranquil 
sea become our sea ; her area seven times larger, her people 
five times more in number ; that through all experiences of 
trial, the madness of party, the injustice of foreign powers, 
the vast enlargement of her borders, the antagonisms of inte- 
rior interest and feeling — the spirit of nationality would grow 
stronger still and more plastic; that the tide of American 
feeling would run ever fuller ; that her agriculture would 
grow more scientific ; her arts more various and instructed, 



172 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

and better rewarded ; her commerce winged to a wider and 
still wider flight ; that the part she would play in human 
affairs would grow nobler ever, and more recognised ; that in 
this vast growth of national greatness time would be found 
for the higher necessities of the soul ; that her popular and 
her higher education would go on advancing ; that her 
charities and all her enterprises of philanthropy would go on 
enlarging ; that her age of lettered glory would find its aus- 
picious dawn : and then it had been also foretold him that even 
so, with her grace and strength, should his fame grow and be 
established and cherished, there where she should garner up 
her heart ; that by long gradations of service and labor ho 
should rise to be, before he should taste of death, of the peer 
less among her great ones ; that he should win the double 
honor, and wear the double wi-eath of professional and public 
supremacy ; that he should become her wisest to counsel and 
her most eloquent to persuade ; that he should come to be 
called the Defender of the Constitution and the preserver of 
honorable peace ; that the ' austere glory of suffering ' to save 
the Union should be his ; that his death, at the summit of 
greatness, on the verge of a ripe and venerable age, should be 
distinguished, less by the flags at half-mast on ocean and lake, 
less by the minute-gun, less by the public procession, and the 
appointed eulogy, than by the sudden paleness overspreading 
all faces, by gushing tears, by sorrow, thoughtfid, boding, 
silent, the sense of desolateness, as if renown and grace were 
dead ; as if tlie hunter's path, and the sailor's in the great 
solitude of wilderness or sea, henceforward were more lonely 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 173 

and less safe than before ; had this prediction been whispered, 
how calmly had that perfect sobriety of mind put it all aside 
as a pernicious or idle dream ! Yet, in the fulfilment of that 
prediction is told the remaining story of his life. 

* * * * * 

" But it is time that the eulogy was spoken. My heart 
goes back into the coflSn there with him, and I would pause. 
I went, it is a day or two since, alone, to see again the home 
which he so dearly loved, the chamber where he died, the 
grave in which they laid him, all hal>ited as when 

' His look drew audience still as night, 
Or summer's noontide air,' 

till the heavens be no more. Throughout that spacious and 
calm scene all things to the eye showed at first unchanged. 
The books in the library, the portraits, the table at which he 
wrote, the scientific culture of the land, the course of agricul- 
tural occupation, the coming in of harvests, fruit of the seed 
his own hand had scattered, the animals and implements of 
husbandry, the trees planted by him in lines, in copses, in 
orchards, by thousands, the seat under the noble elm on which 
he used to sit to feel the southwest wind at evening, or hear 
the breathings of the sea, or the not less audible music of the 
starry heavens, all seemed at first unchanged. The sun of a 
bright day, from which, however, something of the fervors of 
mid-summer were wanting, fell temperately on them all, filled 
the air on all sides with the utterances of life, and gleamed 
on the long line of ocean. Some of those whom on earth he 



174 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

loved best, still were there. The great mind still seemed to 
preside ; the great presence to be with you. You might 
expect to hear again the rich and playful tones of the voice 
of the old hospitality. Yet a moment more, and all the 
scene took on the aspect of one great monument, inscribed 
with his name, and sacred to his memory. And such it shall 
be in all the future of America ! The sensation of desolate- 
ness, and loneliness, and darkness with which you see it now 
will pass away ; the sharp grief of love and friendship will 
become soothed ; men will repair thither, as they are wont to 
commemorate the great days of history; the same glance 
shall take in, and the same emotions shall greet and bless the 
Harbor of the Pilgrims and the Tomb of Webster." 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 175 



HORACE MANN. 

The name and fame of the distinguished subject of this 
sketch are world-wide. He is known, honored, and appre- 
ciated as the promoter of education and the defender of the 
oppressed. The mantle dropped by the lamented Adams sits 
gracefully upon his shoulders. He is eminent as a writer, a 
speaker, a scholar, and a statesman. His essays and his 
speeches command the attention and win the admiration of 
all who read or hear them. He never fails to get the eyes 
and ears, if not the hearts, of his hearers, whether they be 
little children in a common school, or larger ones in Congi-ess. 
He is a prophet who hath honor in his own and other coun- 
tries. The first time the writer saw hira, was at the opening 
of a primary school in Boston. Several prominent men had 
spoken to the children present, in unintelligible language ; in 
fact, they spoke to the youths as they were accustomed to 
speak to adults. By-and-by, a tall, thin, graceful man, with a 
high forehead and silvery hair, arose in one comer of the 
room, and in a familiar manner asked the children to let him 
see their red lips and bright eyes. In a moment a sea of 
sunny faces was turned toward him. He told them to perse- 
vere in the acquisition of knowledge, and asked them if they 
ever saw a honey-bee go out from its hive on a May morning 
in pursuit of its sweets. They said they had seen the bee on 
his tour among the flowers. " Now," continued the speaker, 



176 



CRAYON SKETCHES, ANL 



" when lie comes from the leaves he does not bring a whola 
hive on his back, but he flies home with a little at a time. 
You must copy the example of the bees, and gather the 
sweets of knowledge from book leaves, as they gather honey 
from flower leaves." The children were intensely interested 
in his stories, comparisons, allusions, and admonitions. 

The next time I saw this prominent and popular Mann, was 
at the dedication of a grammar school in Boston. Many of 
the first citizens were present, and listened with delight to his 
extemporaneous and appropriate speech. His tongue is like 
the pen of a ready writer. It costs him little or no efibrt to 
round a period handsomely, or polish a sentence until it 
becomes transparent with beauty, and as for grammatical 
inaccuracies, even in his impromptu efibrts, they are out of 
the question. Last winter he delivered the introductory lec- 
ture before the Mercantile Library Association. Tremont 
Temple was packed, from the orchestra to the entrance. 
Many persons were obliged to leave the crowded doors for 
want of accommodation. After the usual preliminaries, the 
orator appeared on the platform and was warmly greeted by 
the vast audience. He commenced at once by leaping, at a 
single bound, into the middle of his lecture, and he addressed 
the young merchants in a strain of surpassing power and elo- 
quence. The last survivor of that large assembly cannot 
outlive the impression that masterly efibrt made on every 
appreciating mind. He spoke forcibly, rapidly, emphatically. 
Wit, humor, pathos, irony, argument, fiowed fi-om his lips aa 
freely as water from an unfailing fountain. Those who carry 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 177 

their souls in the sacks of their stomachs, and those who carry 
their hearts in their breeches-pockets, were shown up as Mar- 
shal Tukey exhibits the light-fingered gentlemen who some- 
times visit the City of Notions. He did not spare the wine- 
bottle nor the tobacco-box, the coflee-pot nor the tea-kettle. 
He pronounced woes against those who will not breathe pure 
air, and drink cold water, and eat plain food, and sleep on 
hard beds in ventilated rooms. He has a stout heart and a 
strong hand, and the whip he holds over the backs of glut- 
tons and imbibers has a silver lash and a golden handle, and 
although every blow reaches the red, the wounded and the 
whipped save their lamentations for the secret chamber where 
they sit upon the stool of repentance. 

If it be true that New England is farther from perdition 
and nearer paradise than any other portion of America, it in 
owing to the superiority of her public schools. Horace Mann 
has done more than any other person to elevate the educa- 
tional advantages of New England. His praise is in all the 
schools. His system of instruction is almost universally 
adopted. The moral atmosphere of Washington is sure to 
spoil the principles of some men whom the multitude delight 
to honor. Not so with Horace Mann. He does not wear a 
double face. He does not blow hot and cold in the same 
brea,<^^ He does not amend, abridge, or alter his speeches to 
suit the latitude in which he lives. Even the Hercules of tlia 
senate, the mighty Expounder of the Constitution, has felt the 
weight of his arm, and staggered under the force of his blow 
Horace Mann not only goes for free soil and free men, but foi 

8* 



1Y8 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

free air and the free use of cold water. He is liberal-minded, 
generous-hearted, dignified in his deportment, genteel in his 
address, and his character is like Caesar's wife, above suspicion. 
He is not only admired, but really beloved, by his friends, 
acquaintances, and constituents. 

He has a classical face and forehead. The organ of 
benevolence is prominently developed, as are the organs of 
causality, comparison, ideality, and sublimity. He is a poet, 
although he may not have exhibited any symptoms of that 
sort in rhyme. In his happiest efibrts before an audience, he 
often leads them high up the mountain so that they may see 
the promised land where the nations shall dwell in the good 
time coming. 

Mr. Mann is a cogent reasoner, a deep thinker, a ready 
debater, an elegant writer, a splendid speaker. There is a lit- 
tle lisping impediment on his tongue until he becomes excited. 
Anti-progress men cannot bribe him, nor scare him, nor gag 
him, nor cope with him at the press, or in the forum. He is 
remarkable for his originality, and his ideas are like pictures 
painted on glass, by those ancients who had the art, now lost, 
of making the colors penetrate the surface so that the object 
appeared as vividly on one side as the other. He may be 
called a " proverbial philosopher," a prose poet, a sayer as 
well as a doer of good things. Some of the " old liners " in 
literature and theology, do not approve his liberal sentiments. 
They have not the courage to assail him openly, but they 
damn him with faint praise in private circles. He is apt to 
indulge a taste for alliteration. It is almost the only blemish 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 



179 



in his essays and speeches. There is no maa in New England 
so well qualified in every respect to occupy the post of honoi 
and duty rendered vacant by the death of John Quiucy 
Adams, as he. 

Mrs. Jane Swisshelm has the following in one of her inimi 

table sketches : — 

HON. HORACE MANN. 

" The people of the district of the ' old man eloquent ' cer 
tainly did a very becoming thing when they sent Horace 
Mann to take his place in the House of Representatives. 
One does not feel that he, or any other man, can fill the place 
of John Quincy Adams ; but in looking at Horace Mann, we 
felt it was becomingly occupied. In the general characteris- 
tics of personal appearance, he is strikingly like our neighbor, 
Hon. William Wilkins — tall, erect, and thin, with hair of that 
singular whiteness which shows the premature bleaching of 
care or sorrow. It is said that his hair turned thus in twenty- 
four hours after the death of his wife. He afterwards married 
Miss Peabody, a sister to the wife of Hawthorne, author of 
the ' Scarlet Letter.' His movements show a large amount of 
muscular energy and activity, but the most remarkable fea- 
ture in his personal appearance is that singular transparency 
of complexion, and that uncommon cleanliness, that gives one 
a kind of spiritual look. He has long been a warm public 
advocate of a plentiful use of fresh air and pure water, or a 
physiological education, as necessary to develope the natural 
powers of the mind ; and he certainly is a good example of 



180 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

the system. To look in his face, you would not dream his brain 
was ever clouded with impure humors, and you look not 07i, 
but into his face, through the clear white skin, for the spirit 
within. His conversational powers we have seldom seen 
equalled. One is attracted, fascinated by the steadfastness of 
bis gaze, and the information to be gained by his rapid con- 
versation. Yet our sensations, while listening to him, were 
not all pleasurable. His eye has that piercing expression 
which is so often described as looking one 'through and 
through,' and we did not choose to have him read on our 
withered brow, a record of all the cups of tea we had drank. 
Then his enunciation of every one of his rapidly spoken 
words is so very correct, and the rendering of his sentences so 
very perfect, that it made the contrast of our blundering 
answers somewhat mortifying. 

" His affections must be of the strongest class, but they are 
not apparent to a stranger. His appearance is that of a half- 
disembodied intelligence of a superior order. We never saw 
an old man for whom we had so much respect and admira- 
tion, with so little affection ; but then he looks as if he could 
not get the gout or the i-heumatism, or the bilious fever, and 
nothing about him appeals to one's pity ; so he has no occa- 
sion to be loved by any but the few he loves. He has none 
of that broad, good-humored smile, that invites the love of all 
the world, and promises an ample return^ His smile is as dis- 
criminating as his look is penetrating, and shows that his 
heart is approached through his reason ; that he loves but 
few, and loves them passing well. His stock of information 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 181 

IS very large and very accurate, for on almost any subject of 
general interest, he is ready, at a moment's warning, to give 
you the general view and the minute details ; but education, 
education for all, is the topic he loves best, and he can give 
one clearer views of its importance in fifteen minutes' talking, 
than can be obtained from reading a dozen respectable essays 
on the subject. We should rather listen to his talk, than any 
one whom we have ever heard lecture on education. Any 
one visiting Washington may know him without the trouble 
of 'pointing out.' He is the tall, straight, thin gentleman, 
with the clean face, white hair, gold-rimmed spectacles, black 
clothes, and firm, quick motions." 



182 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



REV. DOCTOR BOARDMAN. 

The Rev. Dr. Boardman preaches in a neat and beautiful 
cliurcli in Walnut street, Pliiladelpliia ; 'the building will seat 
about a thousand persons, has galleries on three sides, a hand- 
some pulpit, trimmed with red silk velvet, pews wide, well- 
cushioned and accessible. The only opportunity I had to hear 
the celebrated preacher and author who has occupied, for fifteen 
years, his present post of honor and duty and responsibility, 
was on my home return from Washington, Avhen he delivered 
one of his inimitable and eloquent lectures to the merchants 
of Philadelphia. 

Some of the solid men of the Quaker city were present. 
The house, a spacious one, was so crow^ded it was with 
difficulty the preacher wedged his way to the pulpit. Scores 
went away, unable to obtain even a standee — good evidence 
that the Doctor "wears well," that he has not "run out," 
that he is still popular. He read the opening hymn in a 
clear, distinct, manly voice. The hymn was well sung by a 
thoroughly disciplined choir. Good singing is one of the most 
attractive and delightful features of public worship — it is the 
language of heaven — the dialect of angels. It seems to give 
us "the sense of wings " on which we float sky-ward. Who- 
ever heard of a vile deed being done immediately after 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 183 

Binging a sacred song ? Here the congregation joins with 
the choir in singing ; this is surely much better than being 
happy by proxy. After singing, the preacher read a chapter 
giving Solomon's opinion of a virtuous woman. The prayer 
which followed was fervid, honest, and impressive. The text 
was from the writings of Solomon, " many women have done 
virtuously," an eloquent extract from the Merchant's Magazine 
followed ; it was written by a lady who complains of her lord 
because of his neglect. The speaker regrets that he cannot 
deny the grave imputations brought against merchants who 
allow themselves to be so submerged in business they seem to 
forget their families. 

But I intend to sketch persons and not sermons. The Rev. 
Doctor Boardman has a good voice. It is mellow, witli a 
gentle grate and quaver in it, which seems to leave his 
peculiar mark on the word he utters. His gesticulation is 
graceful, natural, and emphatic. The peculiar manner in which 
he " fixes " his eyes upon his hearers and the way in which his 
lips come together, when he has concluded a sentence, (he 
desires to be pondered and remembered,) and the manner in 
which he throws his face forward, as he does occasionally, 
gives the idea that his words are arrows from a shaft stronrrer 
than steel, that hit the heart of the appreciating hearer. His 
matter is solid not heavy, sprightly not light, practical not 
mechanical, classical not cobwebish, it is philosophical, argu- 
mentative, and scriptural. Such matter „as any sensible man 
may hear day after day, week after week, month after month, 
year after year, and never suffer a surfeit, or starve for lack of 



184 



CRAYON SKETCIIKS, AND 



spiritual food. There is no need of making points to keep up 
the interest, no need of his using spice to sharpen the appe- 
tite. When he is severe his sarcasm cuts like a lancet. 

He is not a subtle metaphysician, not a prating pedant 

not a noisy bunkum declaimer. He has a strong clear 

intellect, and common sense of that uncommon quality which 

is closely allied to genius. He is well educated, and what he 

knows he knows thoroughly, and has complete mastery of 

the stock of wisdom always on hand. His language is 

now strong, now soft, now bold, now beautiful. His sarcasm 

is refined, compact, steeped in humor, and spiced with irony. 

He has many brilliant qualities, often breaking forth in bursts 

of kindling magnificence. He is generally moderate, some^ 

times vehement, always majestic, commanding the attention, 

impressing the impartial, and overawing the sceptical. His 

sermons are his own, not copies, not echoes, not shadows, but 

real transcripts of his own heart and brain ; shining here and 

there with lucidus ordo. His sentences are so perfectly 

finished they are fit for the reviewer as they fall from his lips. 

He was rather uncivil to the ladies who lead the Woman's 

Rights party, declaring they were Amazonians quarreling with 

Providence for creating them women instead of creating them 

men. In person he is rather tall, well formed, has dark brown 

hair, carelessly pushed back from a noble, prominent forehead ; 

has an oval face, blue eyes (I think), straight nose, thin, may 

I say literary, hps, dresses in a most unministerial manner, 

with a black neck tie in place of the white cravat. He is 

upwards of forty years of age. Long life to him and may h<? 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 185 

always have the grace, the gift, and the courage to rebuke evil 
in whatever latitude it may exist, whatever alias it may assume j 
may he not be too timid to call it hard names and grappla 
with it, forgetting fame, knowing nothing but Christ and him 
crucified. 



1S6 



CRAYON' SKETCHFS, AND 



SOLON ROBINSON 

The noise in the world which " Hot Corn" has made, and ia 
still making, may cause, in some of our readers, curiosity to 
know something respecting its author, whose personal appear- 
ance has been dimly shadowed forth in the posting bills of 
that popular book. We therefore add Solon Robinson to our 
Gallery of the Noticeables of America. 

To the readers of agricultural journals the name of Solon 
Robinson has been as familiar as any other household word for 
twenty years, and to many of them his face and general 
appearance are familiar ; but a more particular acquaintance 
will be none the less acceptable to those who have seen him 
than to those who have not, while to the purchasers of fifty 
thousand volumes of his first book, who have had a glance at 
his appearance as indicated in the rough wood-cut of the 
" jwster" before alluded to, the present pen-sketch may be par- 
ticularly acceptable. 

In personal appearance, as seen in the street, Mr. Robinson 
looks like an old man; his head is gray, and his beard, which 
he wears long, is entirely white. He is six feet high — stoop- 
shouldered — long-limbed — has an awkward gait, walks with a 
long stride and always with a cane, and is not overwell dressed. 
He generally wears black, and sports a Quaker-looking hat, 
generally " the worse for wear." 

A stranger would suppose, to see him pass rapidly through 




.-"iiora.-7P,^ 



Lora^edtjJCRutlr' 




l-L^ uC ^O^l-l^i/^T^z^ 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 187 

the thronged streets of New York, that he saw nothing but his 
boots, yet few of the quick young eyes of the crowd see more 
than he does, for he searches to the very bottom of everything, 
and penetrates all with a mere glance. 

Solon Robinson is a true specimen of Yankee character, and 
possesses great versatility of talent. He could build a ship or 
a log-cabin — write a philippic or a sermon — " set the table in 
a roar," or draw tears from a " full house." His nature is an odd 
compound of seriousness and mirth. His voice is soft enough 
for a parlor and quiet conversation, or full, clear, and distinct 
enough, when he speaks in the open air, tor thousands of 
people to hear him. His eyes are blue, but very sharp ; his 
hair was of a soft dark brown, and skin fair, in all of which he 
resembles his mother, as well as in form and stature. 

His nature is truthful and candid — if he likes you, you will 
know it — if he does not, you will not long remain in doubt as 
to the fact. He is too plain and blunt ever to be personally 
popular. The vicious will always hate him. Those who read 
his book will see that he is no friend to Vice, particularly that 
which makes the world vicious — the Rum Traffic. His aim 
is to build up (not to pull down) society to his own level. 

His versatility of talent has surprised a good many people. 
They have wondered that a man who could write so well upon 
farming, could give such graphic reports as he does every 
week of the cattle and horse markets of New York, should also 
have the power to draw tears from the million with the story 
of "Little Katy." They think, perhaps, as one did of old, 
" How can he get wisdom that holdeth the plow, and that 



188 



QH^yriV p!.:"P"'^TI'^>. AXD 



glorieth in the goad, that driveth oxen, and is occupied in theii 
labors, and whose talk is of bullocks ; who giveth his mind to 
make furrows, and is diligent to give the kine fodder/' 

Yet the subject of this sketch has got all the wisdom he 
possesses, amid just such scenes and occupations, for he was 
born and has always lived amid the green fields, and has fol- 
lowed after the plow and led the kine until within a few years 
past, and has not yet done talking of bullocks, having made 
the reports of the New York Cattle Market a prominent 
feature in the Tribune. 

Solon Robinson was born October 21st, 1803, about a mile 
south of the village of Tolland, Connecticut. His father, whose 
name was Jacob, the son and grandson of Jacob, and lineal 
descendant of James, the Puritan, whose son came over with 
the Pilgrims, was born in Scotland parish, a few miles east of 
the scene of the great bull-frog fight, or fright, which has 
made their native town of Windham wide-world renowned. 

Solon's mother was Salinda Ladd, of Coventry. His father, 
a small farmer on the hard lands of that part of the state, and a 
cooper, died when Solon, the fourth son, was about six years 
old, and his mother, who had one son a week after her hus- 
band's death, found herself, as many a widow has, obliged to 
sell everything to pay debts, and to put her boys out to places 
with farmers, who would teach them to hold the plow and 
talk of bullocks. 

After a second marriage, and a sixth son, she died, and his 
three eldest brothers subsequently, with a similar pulmonary 
complaint. Solon, himself, has several times been " given up 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 189 

by the doctors" with the same complaint. Once he was cured 
by electricity — once by cold water. 

His education was just such as might be expected in the 
old school house, at the corner of the cross roads, where he 
attended at irregular intervals. At fourteen he closed this 
course of study with ability to spell the hard words of Xoah 
Webster's spelling-book and to write his name in a good round 
hand. 

After that he went to learn the trade of a carpenter; his 
master found him exceedingly useful when an old roof was 
to be mended or a new one built. This work he was com- 
pelled to quit because he had not sufficient strength, but the 
knowledge gained by it he found very useful in after life, 
especially during his log-cabin experiences in the West. 

He then, like many other Yankee boys went peddling, and 
after many and various other avocations wrote some graphic 
papers in the Albany Cultivator, which attracted much atten- 
tion. For several years he has been connected with the press 
In the city of New York, and is now the associate, on the 
Tribune, of Horace Greeley and C. A. Dana. 

Of the former it is needless to say anything in praise, and 
scarcely is it so of Mr. Dana, who is one of the most accomp- 
lished of American editors, and who has done much to raise 
the Tribune to its present high position. The Hot Corn 
stories have made their author a celebrity, and with Mrs. 
Stowe, and a few more favored writers, Solon Robinson enjoys 
a reputation more extensive, perhaps, than that of any othei 
living sketcher of men and manners. 



190 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



JOHN EOSS DIX 

Is one of the most fluent and forcible writers in America, 
and having made his mark on the present age by the produc- 
tions of his classic pen, I will endeavor to gratify the general 
reader by inserting the following " off-hand " sketch, which 
was written by me for an editorial friend at a time when 
family afflictions incapacitated him for superintending the 
management of his paper. Mr. Dix is a native of Bristol 
England, and now editor of the " Waverley Magazine," pub- 
lished in Boston : — 

In this issue of our paper we close the interesting series of 
articles entitled " Passages from the History of a Wasted Life." 
They have been to the " Life Boat " what the thrilling tale of 
"Uncle Tom's Cabin" was to the ^'■National Era.'''' Our 
readers will be delighted to know that our enterprising and 
excellent fellow-townsman, B. B. Mussey Esq., has made 
arrangements with the distinguished author of this truthful 
narrative to publish it forthwith, so that its appreciating 
admirers, and others, may have it in a more beautiful and a 
less ephemeral form. During the many years ■'hat we have 
been connected with the press, nothing has appeared in the 
columns of our Temperance Journals, whose melting pathos, 
sparkling poetry, earnest air, and laughing humor, have 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 191 

created such a sensation iu the great circle of Temperance 
readers. 

The magnificent poem entitled " To-Morrow," which 
appeared in last week's paper, is a perfect gem ; and stamps 
its author as a man of rare genius. Indeed, there is so much 
feeling and passion in these lines, we seem to feel the pulsa- 
tions of the heart out of which they throbbed — and see the 
radiant light of the cultured brain that conceived them. 

It is not a matter of astonishment that such an eminent 
man as Lucius M. Sargent, who stands at the head of Tem- 
perance literature in this country, should volunteer his 
approval of the work in question. From all quarters the 
same verdict is rendered by disinterested parties ; even the 
enemies of our common cause admire the thrilling style and 
truthful history of our author. Here it may not be amiss to 
say, that this inimitable series of sketches is not the maiden- 
effort of our highly esteemed friend and correspondent. 

His prolific pen, like a match ignited by friction, has blazed 
through many folios. He is the author of the " Pen and Ink 
Sketches" — "Loiterings in and about Boston " — " Life of John 
B. Gough " — " Pen Portraits of English Preachers," and per- 
haps a dozen other different works. 

Doubtless, our readers would be gratified with a personal 
sketch of one, in whose remarkable history they have been so 
intensely interested. We were on the point of mentioning 
his name ; but, as we are not authorized to take that liberty, 
■we will proceed by saying, our author is a well-formed man 
of common stature — rather slender — of the nervous bilious 



192 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

temperament — has black curly hair — a handsomely developed 
forehead — a nose that would have suited Napoleon — and his 
pale classic face is lit up with a pair of black eyes, in which 
nis soul shines like a star in the firmament. He is very 
sensitive and nervous ; when excited, he cannot maintain his 
seat a minute, but moves about quickly, as though he would 
twitch his limbs from their ligaments. At such times he has 
a habit of shutting and opening his eyes rapidly, while light 
flashes from them, like lightning from a summer cloud. He 
dresses neatly, not foppishly ; has the air of a well-bred 
gentleman ; converses fluently, is acquainted personally with 
most of our literary lions on both sides of the Atlantic ; 
reads much — and in addition to his literary and scientific 
attainments, has a large stock of general knowledge. He is a 
regular apothecary and surgeon ; and has been editor of a 
journal in England. His style is peculiar to himself; clear, 
graphic, eloquent, and original. At some future time we may 
write a criticism on that subject ; at present we will add but 
a word or two by way of urging our readers to procure an 
early copy of " Passages from the History of a Wasted Life." 
His style reminds one of De Quincy somewhat — there is in 
it the same bonhommie and graphic energy — the same manly 
courage which dares to utter the truth in plain Saxon words, 
which are strong as " hooks of steel." He never " glories in 
his shame," but like the author of the " Opium Eater," tells 
his story frankly, that his experience may be a lesson and a 
warning to others. His " Life of Chatterton," the boy-poet, 
although one of his earliest efforts, is full of memorable pas- 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 193 

sa^s. His miscellaneous writings, to be found in the periodi- 
cal literature of the day, would make a volume whicli would 
be a valuable acquisition to any library. Those who are 
familiar with the productions of his pen, must have admired 
his chatty, sketchy, dashing way of word painting. He 
writes rapidly, and seldom re-touches his most elaborate 
essays — and their smoothness is not to be attributed to the file 
and polisher, but to the fine texture of the natural enamel. 
Owing to his intuitive and quick habit of thought, and the 
entire command he has acquired over his intellectual resources, 
he is ever ready at a moment's warning to write a " leader " 
for a newspaper, a lyric for an annual, or an essay for the 
most fastidious review. The autobiogi-aphy of John B. Gough, 
which has been scattered broadcast over the American Con- 
tinent, and republished in Europe, was written by him in a 
single week. We have not space in the present crowded 
columns of our little sheet, to amplify on a theme which 
deserves more space and an abler pen. 

Here is the beautiful poem alluded to, with a preface from 
his own pen ; I clip it from one of the passages of his history. 

" Before I more particularly allude to this residence of mine 
'in Chambers,' I may, perhaps, as an indication of the morbid 
condition of my mind at this period, be permitted to present 
the reader with a copy of some verses, Avritten at midnight, 
during a fit of deep despondency. No one has a more 
thorough contempt than myself for ' occasional verses,' made 
to order ; and I trust the reader will not suspect that these 



194 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

were written to gi'atify a stupid vanity. Tliey were penned 
one dreary niglit, in a bare room, almost within the shadow 
of the towers of Westminster Abbey, the great bell of which 
was booming twelve o'clock over the wilderness of London, 
whose dull mysterious roar sounded even then. 

TO-MORROW. 

Sweet day — firom whose perpetual dawn 

Half of Life's little light we borrow ; — 
Veil of the future yet undrawn ! — 

Hope's own blue beautiful To-Morkow ! 
Day ever rising — never risen ! 

Time ever coming — never come ! 
Thou, who dost paint the soul's dim prison 

With landscapes of Elysium, 
Still peeps thy morning-star behind. 

Though sorrowful To-Day is glooming; 
And o'er the vexed, tempestuous mind. 

The thunder-peals of thought are booming ! 
When the heart to its black depths is stirred, 

Still, in each pause of raging sorrow, 
A Voice, — a soft, blest Voice is heard ! 
'Tis thine — the sky-lark of Hope's heaven, — To-Morrow! 

What hoards of Happiness to he, 

Lie somewhere in thy secret keeping ! 
Aye keeps, as keeps a sunny sea 

The rich Avrecks in its bosom sleeping ! 
Yet, blest in but expected pleasures, 

Earth's millions wait, and watch thy dawn: 
As well the owTiers of those treasures 

Might wait to see the deep gulf yawn, 



i 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 19a 

And give them back their gold ! Oh ! when 

That burial-vault of wealth shall ope, 
Then shall the soul — and not till then, 

Unfold the landscape of thy dream, oh ! Hope I 

Like some bright host with untried powers, 

Bright, marching in the morning sun, 
Started To-Day, wdth all its Hours, 

Prepared a bright career to run; 
Like that lost army, madly strewing 

The battle field ere day is done ; 
From all that field's dumb death and ruin, 

But one voice heard, and that a dying one; 
Such this To-Day's last hours — now taking flight, 
With all their hopes and aims and prospects bright, 
And purposes sublime, to everlasting Night ! ■ 

Then, wherefore hail a Day new-bom, 

As though, upon its soimdless wing, 
Some dove unto life's Ark forlorn 

The olive branch of Peace might bring ? 
No Eden Bird this bosom's emblem ! 

The stormy Petrel's mine might form, 
That builds no nest, but fluttering — trembling, 

Lives out at sea, and fights the storm ! 
Screaming its sad song o'er the abyss. 
Heard but by men distressed : as this, 
Lost on the world's dull ear, may reach lone mieerv's. 



196 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

The following, from the pen of Mr. Dix, has never before 
appeared in print. While it affords a specimen of our 
author's style, it cannot fail to interest the reader. 

A PAIR OF ROMISH PORTRAITS. 
FATHER GAVAZZI AND CARDINAL WISEMAN. 

" Travel, with us, reader, to the Princess' Concert Hall, 
for in that spacious and splendid Hall, a famous Monk is about 
to lecture on the abuses of the Roman Catholic Church. 
Light is about to be emitted from a dark church lantern. 
The Canon Laws and Papal Usurpation is to be the subject 
of the oration. 

Look at that swarthy man, on the platform, whose fine 
figure is draped in the flowing robes of his religious order ; a 
cross being worked on the left breast. Look at his broad 
forehead, his dark, glancing, half-sinister eyes, and listen to 
his magnificent voice. The Concert Room is as crowded, as 
if Jenny Lind were to sing, for here is a mighty gathering of 
exiles and patriots of every grade. There is Mazzini, tall and 
gaunt, with his olive-complexioned face, large melancholy 
eyes, and fine head ; and others, of lesser note, are to be seen 
in the crowd of brave men and fair women. All these are 
attracted not less by sympathy for suffering humanity than by 
the exquisite beauty of Italy's language, embellished by the 
splendid delivery of the monk. Members of the Ho\ise of 
Commons muster in great force ; and, indeed, all intellectual 
London has its representatives present at the Hall. 

'lavazzi commenced his oration. At first his tones were 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 197 

low and solemn, gradually lie warmed up with his theme, and 

then, with amazing \ngor he poured forth a rushing tide of 

eloquence. Satire, sarcasm, invective, pathos, sublimity, an*/ 

piety followed each other in rapid succession. His form 

dilated, and his eyes flashed, as he denounced the rascalities 

of Popery, and his garments, flowing in the wind of stormy 

applause, rendered his appearance highly picturesque. He 

evidently made his expose with a gusto ; after any point he 

would partially stoop, lean forward, clap his hands, and a 

triumphant smile would play on his features. The enthusiasm 

which for two hours pervaded the assembly, and which the 

vigorous declamation of the orator, never allowed to flag for 

a moment, found frequent utterance in the most energetic 

bursts of uproarious applause. It would require — so fluent 

was he — a regular staff" of stenographers to fairly report a 

speech of Fatlier Gavazzi, for the eloquence of the monk is 

of a higher and diflx^rent order than that which the ' gallery 

men ' of the great legislative assemblies usually have to do 

with." 

****** 

Here is a sketch from the life of Cardinal Wiseman : — 

" Slowly, and with an air which some might mistake for dig- 
nity, and which it is very possible was meant to express it, 
came on the prime emissary of the Vatican. Before him was one 
official bearing a lofty triple, gilded cross, and a second carry- 
ing a magnificent crosier ; and on either side of the " proud 
prelate " slowly walked two priests, in amber-colored robes, 
richly braided with gold, supporting his train. With tall 



198 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

robust form, towering above tliese appeared Cardinal Wisenaan. 
He was superbly clothed ; on his head pressed a mitre, all 
glistening with gold and jewels ; a robe of amber colors, pro- 
fusely decorated with gold embroidery, and on the back 
embroidered with a gorgeously wrought cross, enveloped his 
portly frame ; and from beneath the rustling garment appeared 
trowsei-s (profanely so to speak) of white satin, glistening 
with gold spangles, and white satin shoes also spangled with 
auriferous ornaments; his great, fat hands were enclosed in 
white gloves, elaborately embroidered, and over these were 
rings of dazzling lustre — ^but conspicuous among all was the 
large Episcopal signet, which appeared gloomy and grim 
among its sparkling companion-gems, like the dark church 
of which it was a symbol, when compared with that of a 
simpler but a far purer and more resplendent faith. 

Shade of Wolsey ! we mentally exclaimed, as we gazed on 
the new Cardinal, can the priest upon whom we gaze be the 
man who has set Protestant London at defiance? Is that 
vulgar, coarse, and sensual-looking individual, the head of 
the Catholic Church in Britain ? The universal homasre that 
was paid him as he slowly paced the aisles of St. George's 
Cathedral presented us with an affirmative reply. 




■j-ivTtir.'ea. by J'^ I'luiu:^ 




^C L C <- L^ 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 199 



P. T. BARNUM. 

p. T. Barnum, the chief caterer for the amusements of 
the million, the prince of showmen, the curiosity king, the 
ex-editor, ex-school teacher, ex-clerk, ex-merchant, is one 
of the most remarkable men of any age in any couutry, 
and ray book would be incomplete without some allusion to 
his wonderful energy and successful enterprise. He has been 
regarded by multitudes as a strange something, part humbug, 
part human, part Hercules. At present he is the proprietor of 
the American Museum, and one of the sleeping, but not one 
of the sleepy, partners of the firm which controls the New 
York Illustrated News. He is a writer of more than medio- 
cre ability, and he ranks high as a platform speaker, while 
his financiering skill is unsurpassed even among Yankees. 
Whatever he touches turns to gold, whether it be Joice Heth, 
or Jenny Lind, Tom Thumb, or a pair of giants. For his 
generous efibrts in assisting the unfortunate and aiding young 
beginners, he has endeared himself to many recipients of his 
bountiful benevolence ; for his disinterested labors to promote 
the temperance cause, he deserves the gratitude and admira- 
tion of our race ; at his own expense he has travelled and toiled, 
week after week, in the face of obloquy and opposition, to 
secure the advancement of a glorious reform which is identi* 



200 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

fied with the happiness of every member of the human 
family. Barnum is a man and not a humbug. He is an 
extraordinary man, he is a great man. See with what tact, 
boldness, and practical good common sense he managed the 
Jenny Lind affair : did he not deserve the princely profit he 
received from his well directed efforts to secure the services 
of the queen of song, and the admirable manner in which he 
carried out his well directed plans ? 

It was risk enough for a corporation to hazard, and required 
as much enterprise as a community possesses to execute the 
arrangements after they had been made. With w^hat 
Napoleonic energy, and superior generalship did he foil the 
attempt made to decoy the bird from his hands after he had 
caught it from the bush ; what a knowledge of human nature 
has he displayed in the tact and skill with which he has 
brouo-ht out cunnino; contrivances for the entertainment of 
the curious. Now he shows a "fictitious" nurse of Washing- 
ton, now a mermaid, half cod-fish and half monkey, manu- 
factured more to please than to deceive the public, now an 
amiable and handsome dwarf, is exhibited in the presence of 
the Queen and nobility of England. Now, for the sake of 
notoriety, he calls himself a humbug, and the cry is echoed by 
the press all over the Union. 

But he always gave his patrons their money's worth of 
amusement, and it cannot be proved that he ever received the 
price of a ticket " under false pretences ;" that Joice Heth was 
not 163 years of age has never been proved, that the mer- 
maid which is now in the Boston Museum was not the creature 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 201 

it purported to be was no fault of his. If it is not a natural it 
is a mechanical curiosity. The woolley horse was a natural 
curiosity, for which he paid the sum of five hundred dollars. 

Barnum is a shrewd man, who has the art and mystery of 
making large sums of money in a short time, and then ho 
has the magnanimity to distribute it unostentatiously among 
those who will make wise appropriations of it. He is a 
scheming speculative man, but far removed from selfishness, 
and would never sacrifice nor deny his principles to obtain 
place, or power, or fame, or fortune. lie is a business man, 
and his rules for success in business, deserve to be written in 
gold, and preserved in frames of silver in every counting 
room, work-shop, foundry, and factory, and dwelling, in the 
land. He is a gentleman, polite not finical, courteous not 
affected, and truthful without dissimulation in his pei*sonal 
intercourse with his fellow men. He is a philanthropist. 
Where is the man who gives more generously, and makes less 
parade about it? In politics he is a cold water Democrat; 
in religion he is a cold water Universalist. 

Mr. Barnum is a native of Danbury, Connecticut, and is 
now forty-three years of age. He is a fine-looking man, well 
formed and somewhat above the ordinary size and stature. 
He has a noble forehead, expressive eyes, and a mouth finely 
cut and indicative of decision and energy ; there is a mixture 
of mirthfulness,* shrewdness and benevolence in his counte- 

* While lecturing out West on the subject of temperance, some one 5n tht 
loetlng cried out, " What shall we do with our surplus grain?" 
" "eed the starving wives and children of drunkards," replied Barnum. 

9* 



202 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

nance, which comports with his character. He dresses neatly 
without much ornament, is very accessible, and treats even 
the humblest person with much kindness, and never cuts an 
old acquaintance in the hour of trial and misfortune. He is 
charitable and strictly honorable in all his business trans- 
actions. He has a beautiful home, and is very happy in 
his domestic relations. One of his daughters was recently 
married. The following description of his residence will form 
a fitting close to this sketch. It comes from one of his own 
townsmen. 

p. T. BARNUM, AND HIS RESIDENCE. 

One of the first places which a stranger visits on coming 
here, is Iranistan, the residence of P. T. Barnum, proprietor 
of the American Museum and importer of heavenly minstrelsy 
into our unharmonious country. It stands upon a level plateau, 
about half a mile from the main street, a unique and mag- 
nificent building, in the Oriental and Turkish style — its wings, 
piazzas, galleries, pinnacles, and dome giving it a light and 
airy appearance. It is especially beautiful, when viewed by 
moonlight. The grounds are laid out in excellent taste, with 
the gardener's cottage, the green-houses and the stables built 
in a style of architecture corresponding sufficiently to that of 
the house, without being stiff copies of it, all disposed in the 
best manner for a pleasing general effect. The gates are con- 
stantly thrown open, and, in pleasant weather, visitors may at 
almost any time be seen riding or walking through the 
grounds of this earthly paradise. Is it thus thrown open tc 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 203 

the public merely to gratify an ostentations pride ? I ihint 

not. 

It is a Sabbath evening, and the sun is just setting. Groups 
of gentlemen and ladies are threading the walks among the 
trees — the hard-working mechanic with his wife and children, 
all dressed in their best, are sauntering over paths thickly 
strewed with tiny seashells, admiring the flowers and rare 
shrubs that border the walks, or throwing crumbs to the tame 
fishes in the fish-pond, or gazing at the rare exotics in the 
green-houses, and all enjoying the costly scene, as really, for 
the moment, as if it were their own. The proprietor, if he 
is at home, simply enjoys the innocent pleasure which his 
establishment afibrds the people, and I really believe, that if 
he were conditioned to hold it guarded with the exclusiveness 
which characterizes some of the snobbish aristocracy of our 
land, he would sooner burn it to the gi-ound. But the 
chances are that, instead of being at home, stretched upon a 
luxurious sofa, this Sunday evening, he started in his buggy 
some hour or two since, to fulfil an appointment to lecture 
upon temperance in some country village, distant ten or fifteen 
miles. His heart is thoroughly interested in this reform, 
which, heaven knows, is unpopular enough in Connecticut, 
and he is constantly sacrificing his money and ease to promote 
it. Although unaccustomed to public speaking, his addresses 
tell upon an audience in a most efiective manner. 

"With many others, I was once accustomed to associate the 
name of Barnum with humbug^ but the truth is, there is no 
humbug about the man — Barnum. He may have taken tli« 



204 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

advantage of the craving for humbugs, whicli is one of tlie 
passions of mankind, but he is a real man, witb noble qualities 
and feelings — and no humbug. He is proving in many ways 
that tlie public know nothing of, that he unites benevolence 
and enlarged views to his acknowledged business tact, talent, 
and enterprise. This latter has indeed been placed above all 
cavil by his engagement with the famed Swedish Nightingale ; 
for who in America could have given us Jenny Lind, but 
Barnum ? 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 205 



DR. E. KANE. 

It was announced that Dr. E. Kane, of Arctic Expedition 
notoriety, would lecture before the citizens of Boston, on Mon- 
day evening, consequently an immense audience convened at 
an early hour to see and hear the intrepid traveller. While we 
were patiently waiting the arrival of the great tourist, a 
sudden outburst of applause advertised the arrival of a short, 
stout, fat, corpulent old gentleman, whose large round head 
was thickly covered with long dark hair, carefully parted in 
the middle and combed behind his ears. He had a low fore- 
head, full, fat face, light inexpressive eyes, and his jaws seemed 
to cave in as though he had lost his teeth. He looked more 
like a Dutch ploughman from the valley of the Mohawk, than 
a learned lawyer, but it really was Chief Justice Shaw, the 
most distinguished jurist in Massachusetts. 

Another explosion of applause, and a slender man of average 
height, weighing perhaps one hundred and twenty-five pounds, 
walked gracefully toward the desk. It was the heroic adven- 
turer, who has probably seen as much of the physical world 
as any living man of his age. He has black hair with a curl 
ia it, carefully brushed aside, leaving one of his lofty temi:)lea 



206 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

bare and concealing the other. His pale thin face is lit up 
with a pair of small round blue eyes, and his mouth is shaded 
with a short black moustache, which terminates in an impe- 
rial ; his long nose indicates clearness of brain, and his earnest 
countenance denotes unfaltering integrity of purpose. His 
voice, though clear and flexible, has not sufficient volume and 
power to fill the great hall where he lectured. He extem- 
porised nearly half the time, and spoke fluently and cor- 
rectly. In his right hand he held a fish pole, with which he 
pointed to the diagrams on the wall in front of the audience. 

His lecture was the shortest of the season, and might have 
been made the most interesting one had he confined himself 
to the history of his search for Sir John Franklin, instead of 
giving us a geographical history of the North Pole. A report 
of a part of his lectuie, however, I am sure will be intensely 
interesting. 

" It is difficult," the lecturer remarked in opening, " as we 
look at a map of the world, to believe that all the world, save 
a very limited expanse, was wrapped in ignorance. Nor has 
that ignorance totally disappeared, for there are portions of 
the globe entirely unknown to the civilized world, and much 
exploration is needed to reveal vast regions, still hidden from 
the knowledge of man. The vicinity of the North Pole is 
among those portions yet to be explored. It is shut out from 
us by a vast barrier of ice. The early settlers of Iceland 
revealed an extension of ice far to the north. It was then 
shown to extend to Hudson and Baffin's Bays, and Captain 
Cook defined its existence in Behring's Straits. 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 207 

"Modern science has taught us to lay down the limits of 
this vast ice barrier, and to define the boundaries of a great 
polar continent. The ice barrier, commencing at Labrador, 
extends to that portion known as Lost Greenland, and then 
comes across the Atlantic to Spitzbergen, thence to Nova 
Zembla. On the northern coast of Russia it may further bo 
traced, and also north of America, while whalers have found 
it throughout Behring's Straits. This immense body of ice 
bounds a circle 6000 miles in circumference, and encloses an 
area one-third larger than the continent of Europe. It can 
be safely stated that this ice barrier is not continuous, but is a 
ring surrounding an open sea. How solemn is the conception 
of such a vast inland sea, shut in by ice, on whose coast no 
human being has yet trod ! 

" There are facts to show the necessity and certainty that 
there is a vast inland sea at the North. There must be some 
vast receptacle for the drainage of the polar regions, and the 
great Siberian rivers. To prove that water must actually exist, 
we have only to observe the icebergs. These floating masses 
cannot be formed without terra firma, and it is a remarkable 
fact that out of 360° in only 30° are icebergs to be found, 
showing that land cannot exist in any considerable portion of 
the country." 

" Again, Baffin's Bay was long thought to be a close bay, 
but it is now known to be connected with the Arctic sea. 
Within the Bay, and covering an area of 90,000 square miles, 
there is an open sea from June to October. We find heie a 



208 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

vacant space with water at 40° temperature — eight degrees 
higher than freezing point. This is due to the polar ice drift. 

" A halt is ordered, and rising twenty feet in the air is a 
ridge to oppose the progress of our party. Quickly the 
sledge is taken to pieces, the various parts are conveyed over 
the ridge, it is again put together, and the party move on. 
Another halt, and a black river flows directly across the path 
of our party. The gutta percha boats are taken out, the 
sledge is again taken to pieces and carried across, again to be 
put together. No hesitancy is allowed, and although the 
houi's of work in a day are many, yet ten miles is considered 
good progress. 

" Another halt, and the day's work is done. A snow-hut 
is erected, the men remove their wet boots and stockings, 
wash their feet in snow, and step into a wolf-skin blanket, 
spread upon water-proof cloth, thrown upon the icy ground. 
A lamp is lighted, and water is procured from the snow. The 
supper is prepared, another wolf skin is thrown over the 
fatigued explorer, and he sleeps only to wake again to 
renewed labor. The food to be used by Dr. Kane's Expedition 
is dried pemmican, which is composed of the muscles of oxen, 
prepared in the marrow of these animals, forming a nutritious 
article of sustenance. 

" All unnecessary baggage will be avoided, and the smallest 
needful quantity of food and raiment will be proportioned to 
each man. 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 209 

" The line of travel to be pursued will be due north until we 
reach the headlands of Greenland, and then we shall descend 
in search. It has been determined to make the expedition 
one of scientific importance, and for this purpose every obser- 
vation possible will be made and chronicled. Natural historj^, 
the mysteries of northern migi-ation, in a word, all subjects 
that are worthy of investigation will be made objects of 
search by the expedition. Prof. Henry of the Smithsonian 
Institute, always ready to advance every endeavor to attain 
knowledge, has furnished the party with a supply of instru- 
ments for observations, and the Secretary of the Navy will 
apply to Congress for appropriations necessary to carry 
forward the work. And now an appeal is made to Boston 
for sympathy and aid. 

" Whether Sir John Franklin is alive or not, is not now the 
subject under discussion. Our duty to attempt to rescue him 
if alive, or to seek the solution of his fate is plain. Traces 
can be found, and it is incumbent on us to attempt to find 
them." 

In concluding. Dr. Kane asked the sympathy of all the 
good and kind, for the party who are soon to leave for a 
region where even day and night are unknown, and all is 
dreary and desolate. 

The Hall was densely crowded, and Dr. Kane's lectur« 
was listened to with marked attention by all. 



210 



CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 



€ 



What grand accommodations are provided for the peopL 
of this generation ! Rivers are bridged, hills are tunnelled, 
ships are launched, while fire, wind, and water are harnessed 
and compelled to turn a crank here, and roll a wheel there, 
and drive a wedge yonder. The elements once controlled us. 
We were blown about by the wind, scorched by the lightning 
and drowned in the flood. Now the sea is the " highway of 
nations," the lightning our messenger, and the wind our hard- 
workinof slave. 

Then, again, we have such advantages in this " land of the 
free and home of the brave." Our kind-hearted relative, 
Uncle Sam, is such a clever old chap, who knows how to 
provide for his twenty millions of nephews and nieces. In 
every place, that is any place, drop a letter into his post box, 
and forthwith he mounts the stage-seat, and with a bland smile 
drops the billet on the breakfast table the next morning, one 
thousand miles away. If one desires to ride, he yokes his 
team of fire and water, and his steeds, with lungs of fire and 
manes of smoke, speed forward with wings on their heels. 

Accept my grateful acknowledgments, good, dear, kind 
Uncle Sam, for the delightful ride I have had from Boston to 
Concord this glorious morning. The trees are in full blossom ; 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 211 

birds are flying from bush to bush, and they have set to music 
the poetry Spring has written ; lambs, with no fear of the 
butcher and no thought of the glutton before them, are frolick- 
ing in the green meadows ; and lovely children, apparently as 
innocent as lambs, and certainly more beautiful than flowers, 
are on their way to school with bouquets in their hands. 

A kind friend has invited me to accompany him to the 
monument erected to the memory of the first battle fought 
during the revolutionary struggle. We have passed several 
ancient buildings, relics of the "olden time." From that 
window looking eastward, the old lady who now occupies the 
house saw the soldiers passing over the hill, with their hand- 
kerchiefs in their sides to staunch the blood gushing from 
their gaping wounds. 

We have now reached the spot where some say the first 
blood was shed in the battle for fi-eedom in America. A shaft 
of gi-anite, about thirty feet high, marks the spot where the 
first victims were sacrificed on the altar of Liberty. On the 
19th of April, 1775, three hundred intrepid rural soldiers 
drove before them five times that number of regular British 
troops, and forced them to find shelter behind their own bul- 
warks. 

There goes a tall, lean, venerable, senatorial looking man, 
his head whitened with the snows of seventy winters. It is 
Judge Hoar, the distinguished jurist and the noted hero of the 
South Carolina explosion. Ralph Waldo Emerson, the essay- 
ist and lecturer, lives in that large square, unpoetical-looking 
cottage, so handsomely situated; and that Gothic summe^ 



212 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

house in his garden was built by his intimate friend Alcott, 
the author of the " Delphic Oracles." 

In the old parsonage yonder, near the monument, Nathaniel 
Hawthorne, the author of the " Scarlet Letter," and other 
popular books, was born. Here is a good back-ground for a 
picture : suppose we take his portrait. 

Until within a few years, the author of " Twice Told Tales" 
has remained in comparative obscurity ; for it is one of the 
sins of the American people, that they rarely appreciate 
genius on this side of the Atlantic until it has been discovered 
by some critic on the other side. Besides, the few here who 
think they have gi'own to full fame seem anxious to make the 
number grow " beautifully less," and while they hold the keys 
of the temple of fame, no man is allowed to step over its 
threshold, who comes unheralded by a trumpeter from 
England. Thank fortune and his own genius, he has worked 
his way to true appreciation without using cant or claptrap — 
humbug and hypocrisy. Long ago he should have stood in 
the company of such men as Irving, Paulding, Bancroft and 
Prescott ; but he was too poor and too honest to purchase 
labored puffs and eloquent eulogies in the magazines. No 
thanks to the critics (who tried to kill him by letting him 
alone severely) for the prominent position he now occupies. 

Edgar A.Poe, speaking of Hawthorne, says that he is pecu- 
liar, not original — something like the German Tieck in his 
manner and in the selection of his subjects, while his same- 
ness, or monotony, or peculiarity is mistaken for originality. 
He is less original but almost as allegorical as John Bunyan, 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. ' 213 

and when we read the " Old Arm Chair," " Sights from a 
Steeple," " Little Annie's Ramble," " Sunday at Home," " A 
Rill from the Town Pump," " The Toll Gatherer's Day," " The 
Haunted Mind," " The Snow Flakes," " Night Sketches," and 
the "Celestial Railroad," we find as many figures and as 
much dreaming in Hawthorne's progress as we do in 
"Pilgrim's Progress." He has not the polish of Irving, the 
poetry of Lamb, nor the variety of Hazlitt. The subject of 
this sketch is to all intents and purposes a first-rate story- 
teller ; for he has invention and imagination, refined style, 
exquisite taste, delicate humor, melting pathos, and scholar- 
ship sufiicient and ingenuity enough to employ all the 
materials and attributes he possesses to the best account. 

A friend of mine informed me to-day that Hawthorne is 
such a modest man that he will not look another in the face 
— that he is so bashful he avoids society, and will sometimes 
leave his house to avoid the contact of visitors. 

In person ie is a little above the ordinary stature — has dark 
hair and dark, dreamy eyes. He is seen so seldom in public, 
it is as diflBcult to describe him as to paint a figure of the fleet- 
ing air. 



214 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



SAMUEL F. B. MORSE. 

What an age of invention and improvement is this I 
Our patli is paved -vvitli rails of iron, on whicli steeds of steam 
outrace the eagle ; our portraits are painted by the sun, so 
accurately that ugly people, who are vain, seldom look a 
daguerreotypist in the face ; but the greatest and most impor- 
tant invention of this century, is the Magnetic Telegraph, as a 
communicator of intelligence by signs, which it records in cha- 
racters so palpable that he who runs may read — while no one 
can run so fast as the news can fly. The railroad, the steam- 
boat, sun-painting, are not to be compared for a moment with 
the invention perfected by Professor Morse. Watts, Fulton, 
Franklin, and other men deserve our affectionate admiration, 
but Morse overshadows them all ; and he will live for ever, 
fresh in the recollection of his countrymen ; while those who 
would deprive him of his honor, fairly won, and his reward, 
so niggardly bestowed, will sink to insignificance. I do not 
now refer to the men who have suggested improvements in 
the method of recording the communication received and 
transmitted on the wires, but to those who, through envy and 
jealousy, manifest a mean reluctance to give honor to whom 
honor is due, and withhold the consideration to which Pro- 
fessor Morse is so well entitled. 

The distinguished American artist who invented the Elec- 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 215 

trie Telegrapli, is the eldest son of the Rev. Jedediah Morse, 
the first writer on geography in this country. He was born in 
Charlestown, Massachusetts, and is now about sixty years of 
age. He studied at Yale College, where he graduated in 
1810, Having an irresistible desire to become a painter, his 
father reluctantly gave his consent, and permitted him to sail 
for London under the care of Washinjrton Allston. After his 
arrival in the great Babylon of Britain, he became acquainted 
with Leslie, and their first efforts were portraits of each other. 
So industrious and successful was Mr. Morse in his profession, 
that two years after his landing in London he exhibited, at 
the Royal Academy, his famous picture of " The Dying Her- 
cules." He received the most flattering compliments from 
connossieurs, and the model which he made to assist him in 
painting his picture, obtained the sculpture prize for him. 

When he returned to the United States, he settled in Boston, 
where he had to contend with so many discouragements, he 
quitted the city of " Notions " and went to New Hampshire, 
and painted portraits for a trifling consideration — say from $10 
to $15 each. Afterwards he plied his pencil in Charleston, 
South Carolina, where his talents were appreciated, and where 
he was more generously compensated for his labors. In 1822 
he commenced operations in the city of New York, where he 
became popular as a painter, and where he was handsomely 
compensated for his skill. It was there, under the auspices 
of the City Corporation, he painted the full-length likeness of 
Lafayette. 

About this time he was mainly instrumental in organizing 



216 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

the Artists' Association, from whicli grew tlie National 
Academy of Design. He was tlie first president of this 
famous institution, and he delivered the first course of lectures 
on Art in America. In the year 1829 he again visited Europe, 
and was absent from his native land three years. " On his 
return from Europe," says the author of the "Men of the 
Time," " a gentleman in describing the experiments that had 
just been made in Paris with the electro magnet, the question 
arose as to the time occupied by the electric fluid in passing 
through the wire, stated to be about one hundred feet in 
length. On the reply that it was instantaneous (recollecting 
the experiments of Franklin), he suggested that it might be 
carried to any distance, and that the electric spark could be 
made a means of conveying and recording intelligence. This 
suggestion, which drew some casual observation of assent from 
the party, took deep hold of Professor Morse, who undertook 
to develope the idea which he originated, and before the end 
of the voyage, he had drawn out and written the general plan 
of the invention, with which his name will be inseparably 
connected." 

After landing in New York, he resumed the practice of his 
profession, devoting his leisure moments to the accomplish- 
ment of his object. In 1835 he demonstrated the feasibility 
of his plan in the New York University, by putting a model 
telegraph in operation. Two years afterwards, Whcatstone, 
of England, and Steinheil, of Bavaria, also invented magnetic 
telegraphs, differing from each other, and both inferior to the 
invention of Professor Moise. 



CFF-HAND TAKINGS. 217 

Since tliat time the entire world has been made acquainted 
with the progress and history of the invention. Professor 
Morse has received honors and presents from various sources. 
At the suggestion of Steinheil, his system was adopted in 
Germany ; the sultan of Turkey bestowed on him the " order 
of glory," with a diploma decorated with diamonds; the 
kino- of Prussia, though not wishing the discovery to be sneezed 
at, gave him a gold snuff-box ; the king of Wiirtemberg gave 
him a gold medal. In 1840 he received his patent from 
Washington. The first news carried over the wires was 
the announcement of the nomination of James K. Polk as 
the candidate selected by the Democrats for the Presidency. 
Now there are nearly twenty thousand miles of wire in opera- 
tion in this and other countries. This lightning compeller 
has such a passion for painting, that even now he speaks of 
resuming his pencil, I do not like to hunt up coincidences, 
but it is somewhat singular that the man who taught our 
fathers and grandfiithers geography, should have a son whose 
inventive genius has taujjht us how to annihilate the distance 
which divides one part of the world from the other — and that 
the inventor should have a brother, the editor of the " New 
York Observer," whose business can be so much improved 
and accelerated by this great discovery. Columbus discovered 
this continent, Washington made it free, Franklin caught the 
lightning, and Morse has harnessed it and made it our mes- 
lenger. 



10 



218 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



GEORGE W. KENDALL 

George W. Kendall, knov>'n the world over as the editor 
of the New Orleans Picayune, is a " Green Mountain Boy,' 
who passed the days of his boyhood in the beautiful town of 
Burlington, 

When he attained his majority, he visited the city of New 
York, where he remained until 1835, when he went to New 
Orleans ; there he assumed the editorial management of one 
of the most popular papers in America (the New Orleans 
Picayune). His attic wit, his exquisite taste, his elegant com- 
positions, were admired and appreciated on both sides of the 
Atlantic. Hood in his palmiest days was not a cleverer pun- 
ster. Douglas Jerrold has never displayed more genuine 
wit. He-may be styled the merry-Andrew of the press, and 
yet he is not a harlequin nor a clown, but a polished gentle- 
man, saying the pleasantest things in the most delightful 
manner. His humor is irresistible — his wit sharp as a two- 
edged sword — his pathos sure to move the heart and unsea'. 
the fountain of tears. Hypochondria has no chance to survive 
the first scratch of his magic pen. Volumes of amusing and 
touching articles might easily be selected from his model 
paper. As a paragraphist and essayist he occupies a proud 
position. But he wields the sword as well as the pen. In 
the spring of 1841, partly for the benefit of his health, and 





y 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 211) 

partly to gratify his love of adventure, be set out for Austin 
with the Santa Fe Expedition ; and when he returned wrote 
a most interesting history of it, giving a graphic account of 
bis captivity and sufferings in Mexico. 

He resumed bis editorial functions and duties, and remained 
in the Cresent city until the commencement of the Mexican 
war, when he once more abandoned bis literary labors, and 
attended General Taylor as a member of his staff, through 
the whole of his campaigns. At the close of the war be 
made the tour of Europe. He has obtained an enviable repu- 
tation as the author of a splendid " History of the War be- 
tween the United States and Mexico." He is a sociable, 
agreeable, accessible gentleman, whose extraordinary talents 
and manly bearing command the respect of a vast multitude 
of friends. 

The Picayune is a brilliant sheet, abounding in good things , 
and, unlike many of its contemporaries, it is not indebted to 
the coufsctioner for them. 



SAMUEL HOUSTON. 

Gen. Samdel Houston, United States senator from Texas, 
is an extraordinary man, whose common sense and courage 
have won for him the good opinion of his appreciating coun- 
trymen, everywhere. Although a self-taught and self-mada^ 
man, he has few superiors in debate on the floor of the senate- 



220 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

chamber, and fewer equals on the field, in the perilous hou» 
of battle- Indeed, he displays equal courage and coolness, 
whether acting in the capacity of statesman or soldier. We 
admire him as the hero of San Jacinto, when he captures 
Santa Anna, and we applaud him as the herald of freedom, 
when he throttles the " little giant " of Illinois, and virtually 
says to the demagogue, " Get thee behind me, Satan." 
He is one of nature's noblemen, whom the people delight to 
honor, and his fame will be fresh in the memory of the mul- 
titude when the name of Douglas will be forgotten ; or, if 
remembered, be associated with Arnold and infamy. Gen. 
Houston is tall and straight as an Indian, of perfect propor- 
tions, with sharp gray eyes, and a nose like the beak of an 
eagle. He usually wears a profusion of hair upon his face. 
His commanding countenance and towering figure contrast 
finely with the pigmy proportions and plebeian features of the 
ambitious and heartless man who would enslave nations for 
the gratification of his wicked vanity. I am indebted to 
" The Men of the Time " for the following sketch of his history : 
" Gen. Samuel Houston, United States senator from Texas, 
jvas born in Rockbridge county, Virginia, March 2, 1793. 
He lost his father when quite young, and his mother removed 
with her family to the banks of the Tennessee, at that time the 
limit of civilization. Here the future senator received but a 
scanty education ; he passed several years among the Cherokee 
Indians, and in fact, through all his life, he seems to have 
held opinion with Rousseau, and retained a predilection for the 
savage mode of life. After serving for a time as clerk to a 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 221 

country trader, and keeping a scliool, he became disgusted 
with mercantile and scholastic pursuits, and, in 1813, he 
enlisted in the array, and served under General Jackson in 
the war with the Creek Indians. He distinguished himself 
highly on several occasions, and at the conclusion of the wai 
he had risen to the rank of lieutenant ; but he soon resigned 
his commission and commenced the study of law at Nash- 
ville. It was about this time that he began his political life, 
After holding several minor offices in Tennessee, he was, in 
1823, elected to Congress, and continued a member of that 
body until, in 1827, he became Governor of the State of Ten- 
nessee. In 1829, before the expiration of his gubernatorial 
term, he resigned his office, and went to take up his abode 
among the Cherokees in Arkansas. During his residence 
among the Indians, he became acquainted with the frauds 
practised upon them by government agents, and undertook a 
mission to "Washington for the purpose of exposing them. lu 
the execution of this philanthropic project he seems to have 
met with little success ; he became involved in several law- 
suits, and returned in disgust to his savage friends. During 
a visit to Texas, he was requested to allow his name to be 
used in the canvass, for a convention which was to meet to 
form a constitution for Texas prior to its admission into the 
Mexican union. He consented, and was unanimously elected. 
The constitution drawn up by the convention was rejected by 
Santa Anna, at that time in power, and the disaffection of the 
Texans caused thereby, was still further heightened by a de- 
mand upon them to give up their arms. They determine<J 



222 CRAYON SKETCITES, AND 

upon resistance ; a militia was organized, and Austin, tlu 
founder of the colony, was elected commander-in-chief, in 
which office he was shortly after succeeded by Houston, He 
conducted the war with vigor and ability, and finally brought 
it to a successful termination by the battle of San Jacinto, 
which was fought in April, 1836. The Mexicans were totally 
routed, with the loss of several hundred men, while the Tex- 
ans had but seven killed and thirty wounded. Santa Anna 
himself fell into the hands of the victors, and it was with 
great difficulty that they were prevented from taking sum- 
mary vengeance upon him. In May, 1836, he signed a treaty 
acknowledging the independence of Texas, and in October of 
the same year, Houston was inaugurated the first president 
of the republic. At the end of his term of office, as the same 
person could not constitutionally be elected president twice in 
succession, he became a member of the congress. In 1841, 
however, he was again elevated to the presidential chair. 
During the whole time that he held that office, it was his 
favorite policy to efiect the annexation of Texas to the United 
States, but he retired from office before he saw the consum- 
mation of his wishes. In 1844, Texas became one of the 
States of the Union, and General Houston was elected to tha 
Sen{»'«,of which body he is still a member." 



OFF-HAKD TAKINGS, 22S 



PIERRE SOULE. 

Pierre Soule, formerly senator from Louisiana, now 
minister at the court of Spain, was born in France. After 
receiving a collegiate education, while yet in his teens, he 
took part in a conspiracy against the Bourbons, which fact 
being discovered, he fled to a small village where he assumed 
the humble occupation of a shepherd. At the termination of 
twelve months or more, he turned his steps to Paris, where he 
associated with Barthelemy and Mery for the purpose of pub- 
lishing a liberal paper. His republican sentiments soon 
became distasteful to the authorities, and he was put on his 
trial for treason ; but when his lawyer appealed to the court for 
clemency on the score of his youth, Soule was displeased at 
this, and at once arose, denying the criminality of his conduct 
in strains of impassioned eloquence ; but his speech did not 
Bave him, so he sought an asylum in the United States. 

He landed at Baltimore, but took up his residence in New 
Orleans, in the fall of 1825. Having studied the English lan- 
guage and the law, he passed a very creditable examination, 
and rose rapidly in his profession. In 1847, he was elected 
U. S. Senator from Louisiana, and was re-elected in 1849. 
.He is a graceful and eloquent speaker; it is said, indeed, thai 
the mantle of Calhoun has fallen upon his shoulders. The 
slight French accent which marks his pronunciation, is as 
pleasant as a dash of olive oil on a dish of salad. He is a 



224 CRAYOK SKETCHES, AND 

man of fine proportions, with coal black hair ; large ium-in- 
ous eyes, shining like black moons in the firmament of his 
handsome face. He is a polished gentleman, a successful 
lawyer, a respectable but not a profound statesman. He 
caught the filibuster fever at "Washington, but the sea air and 
the climate of Spain have proved a most eflfectual cure, for he 
broke out in court dress there, so that the nation understands 
the diagnosis of his disease. 



WM. THACKERAY. 

I HAVE just sharpened my pencil, I wish I could sharpen 
my wit as easily. Now I will fold my paper, then my arms, 
and wait patiently for the speaker. There he comes ; that 
grey-haired man, who approaches the desk, must be the 
lecturer. No, that is the sexton, who mounts the platform to 
light the candles. There goes a silver-haired man toward 
the organ ; I am told Thackeray is prematurely grey — that 
must be him. Pshaw, that's the organist ! That's him, the 
tall, rosy, robust man, whose face is so much younger than his 
head, it looks like a rose under a snow-ball. The aristocracy 
of Boston are present, and they cheer the lecturer faintly, for 
kid gloves and thin boots render it impossible to create a real 
rackety, thackery, thundering welcome ; besides it is vulgar to 
allow one's heart to throb so rapturously as to reach to one's 
feet and fingers. 



■ OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 225 

There stands the great satirist, the inimitable humorist, the 
famous novelist. He can crush a humbug and scare the blue 
devils from the town, as easily as a farmer can frighten the 
crows from his corn-field. Thackeray is a great man, and 
there is a good deal of him. He must be upwards of six 
feet in height, for he towers up above common men as 
the Alps tower above common mountains, and like the Alps 
he is crowned with snow. He has a wide forehead of 
respectable height ; eyebrows, handsomely arched and neatlj 
pencilled ; fat English cheeks (such as roast beef, plum pud 
ding, and pure air can make) ; a pair of unfrosted whiskers 
(that appear in the distance like an inch and a half of mouse- 
colored moss, under his ears) ; heavy aristocratic chin and 
finely chiselled mouth. A low black stock hugs a linen col- 
lar, too lazy to stand erect — his shirt bosom is unjewelled 
(real gentlemen in Europe are never bedizened with jewelry), 
a plain watch guard, terminating in a cross of gold which 
leans against his dark vest, is all the ornament that is visible 
on his person. See what a free and easy, I may add, indolent, 
way he has of leaning on the desk, and lolling from side to 
side; then his hearty, healthy face, lit up w^ith eyes that 
gleam through golden spectacles, seems to say, " How-de-do, 
Jonathan ? you have given me a generous welcome ; you are 
not a fair weather friend, for the inclement skies and the 
streets of mire and clay have not detained you at home." 

It is not enthusiasm, nor a propensity to over-estimate the 

worth of Mr. Thackeray, that induces me to say the lecture to 

which I now listen is one of the most interesting and instruc- 

10* 



226 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

live lectures I have heard. He has a clear voice, and reads 
right on with little gesture. The sly satire, and sharp jest, do 
not stumble at the red threshold of his mouth, but come forth 
gracefully as though used to the way. Those who do not 
wish to have the skeletons of their character rattle in the 
winds at the cross-roads, must take heed and not fall into the 
hands of Thackeray, for he has the power to gibbet men so 
high the whole world can gaze at the victims. No one how- 
ever, need be afraid of him, unless he be a quack, a humbug, 
or a tyrant, for he has a heart brimful of pity and running 
over with pathos. He is so far in advance of the age, not a 
few old fogies who would like to admire him, because he is 
endorsed by the first men in Europe, dare not, for reasons best 
known to themselves. 

As for the juvenile criticism elicited by his lectures, it 
reminds one of a giant running the gauntlet between rows of 
Liliputians. Shoot away, ye grass-hoppers, armed with pop- 
guns. Don't be afraid, the grand jury will never indict you 
for murder, for you cannot kill, and if you could you are not 
accountable. 

Every person in the Melodeon fell in love with Steele, when 
the speaker, in his own peculiar manner, said he was "a 
black-eyed, soft-hearted, Irish boy," and their affection 
for him did not wane the least when he continued, " he was a 
lazy, good-natured, generous, good for nothing, talented boy, 
fond of lolly-pop, had an early taste for sack, and the gift to 
borrow money of his school-mates " (I do not quote verba- 
tim). The speaker here introduced a brief history of his ow'r 



OFF-HAND TAKIKliS. 227 

experience at scliool. Said lie had seen many great men, but 
none so great as the head boy at school ; and when he had 
met such in after yeare, he was astonished to find them not 
more than six feet tall, and was surprised they had not 
become prime ministers. He said, Addison was head boy at 
the school Steele attended. 

Mr. Thackeray was exceedingly happy in his description of 
Steele as a soldier, " when he became deep in debt and deep 
in drink." Steele was not a teetotaller, for after he had 
become a Minister, and after he had written the " Christian 
Hero," he would put on his wig, cap, and laced coat, kiss his 
wife and children, tell a lie to them about his pressing engage- 
ments, and heeler over to the " Rose," and have a jollification 
with his bottle companions. Addison was willing to assist 
him, but found it impossible to keep the tipsy man upon his 
legs. Steele deserved the admiration and afi"ection of woman, 
for he was the first of that age to appreciate her worth. 
Swift and Addison were ungallant, but Steele set a proper 
estimate upon woman. He dedicated one of his books to his 
wife, and ia the four hundred letters written to her, mani- 
fested the traits of true love. He was married twice and out- 
lived his wife, his fortune, and his health. 

The above is a very imperfect sketch of the lecture, dashed 
off in a crowd, with my hat for a writing- desk. Thackeray 
seems blest with an intuitive perception for distinguishing the 
difference between what thino's are and what thev ougfht to 
be. " The world is a stage " and men are players, but he has 
» box to himself, and an opera glass with clear lens. Therg 



228 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

he sits, weeping at the tragedy and laughing at the comedy 
of life. 

He has a profound insight into human nature, and knows 
exactly how far to go and precisely the place to stop at, when 
he vibrates between the sublime and the ridiculous. His wit 
is refined and effectual, because it is based on the detection of 
unlooked-for resemblance or dissimilarity of ideas, rather 
than words. He is not like Falstaff, who in a double sense 
made a hutt of himself, first by swallowing so much sack, 
secondly by his frequent allusions to himself. There is good 
sense, and practical wisdom, elevation, and enthusiasm in the 
wit of Thackeray, and however sharp may be the sting, there 
certainly is no spleen in his satire. His forte lies in describ- 
ing the characters of men, their modes of dress, their j)ecu- 
liar gestures, their different humors, their singular manners, 
their style of speaking and writing. He amuses by his coin- 
cidences and contradictions, he surprises by his comparisons 
and combinations. His lectures are not darned and patched 
with epigrams, quips, quirks, and conundrums. There is no 
leaving of the high way of his discourse for the purpose of 
lugging in a metaphor to enliven it. All the figures rise up 
naturally out of the subject, as blossoms break out under the 
genial sunshine of Spring. Mr. Thackeray's visit to this 
city will brush the dust from the old classic authors who 
have been shamefully slighted for several years past in this 
(jountry, while the masses have been satisfied with the lolly- 
pop literature of the present age. No offence to the book- 
makers, for my enemies can say, that I too have written a book 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 



229 



JOHN PIERPO^T. 

And girded for thy constant strife with wrong, 
Like Nehemiah, fighting while he wrought 

The broken walls of Zion, even thy song 
Hath a rade martial tone, a blow in every thought. 

Whittier to Pibrpoht 

The purchased puff — the hurrah of the mob — the present* 
tion of medals — the multitude at one's heels — are not fame 
Fame is the spirit of man's genius, which lives in the minds of 
others, while he lives and after he is dead ; for fame is immor 
tal. Popularity is ephemeral, and bears the same relationship 
to fame that shadow bears to substance. The otoss Esau 
would sell his birthright for a mess of pottage. He would 
mortgage the blessing of his father for personal gratification ; 
while the man of true genius waits hopefully for the homage 
which will surely be paid to the everlasting forms of truth and 
beauty he has left on record, as the reflections of his own 
mind. Like Jacob, he sees a ladder of light reaching to 
heaven. He thinks little of himself and much of his subject. 
He aims at perfection and not popularity. He turns his back 
on the past, and his face towards the future. He is willing 
to abide the decision of posterity — hence he speaks the truth. 
Men of true genius are men of progress ; they are reformers. 
Whoever saw a verse of genuine poetry in defence of oppres 



230 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

sion ? What tyrant ever wrote a stanza of pure poetry ? 
Genius never glows in the heart of a tyrant, and Fame will 
never build her temple over his ashes, John Pierpont, the 
preacher and poet, is a man on whose shoulders the mantle 
of true genius has fallen. His pen is never elegantly feeble. 
He never gives you the glitter of fine words for the gold of 
pure thought. He does not cringe and creep and bow and 
lisp like a literary fop ; but like a brave, honest, earnest man, 
as he is, speaks the sentiments that are born in his soul. He 
is an artist, who thinks the picture of more consequence than 
the frame. He will not spoil a good thought for the purpose 
of saying a good thing. He loves Nature more than he fears 
the Critic, and never commits infanticide on his ideas, at their 
birth, for fear they should hereafter be murdered by some 
hypocritical reviewer. The themes selected by him are con- 
genial to his lieart. Is there a temple to be dedicated to the 
service of God ? his muse, with harp in hand, stands between 
the porch and the altar. Is there a monument to be erected 
over the dust of departed heroes ? he there builds a pyramid 
of verse that will stand when the stones shall have fallen in 
decay. Is there a crisis in the cause of reform, when the 
great heart of humanity must speak or bre_ak ? his Avords are 
its throbs, his song its sentiments. 

No reform poet in America is so great a favorite among 
the elite and literati as Mr. Pierpont. Perhaps no man in 
this country receives as many invitations to read poetry before 
lyceums and colleges as he. At Harvard and New Haven, 
and every other place where genius is appreciated, he ia 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 231 

welcome. Notwithstanding this fact, Godey and Graham, 
and other lords in the kingdom of magazinedom never employ 
his pen. The best effusions of his classical quill are found in 
the reform journals, for he does not deem it beneath his 
dignity to contribute to the columns of the papers that are 
not fashionable and popular. 

Holmes is the poet of taste and fashion, cheerful, gay, and 
light as Ariel. Should he prick a sinner with his stiletto, he 
would at once apologize, by declaring he was in fun, and 
hoped no offence. Longfellow is so nice and elegant, he 
sometimes does injustice to his noble nature ; but he is fond 
of freedom, and sympathizes with the men of progress. 
Lowell is a radical, wielding a two-edged sword when he is 
aroused ; he belongs to no school but his own. His muse is 
a jolly jade, with the thumb on her nose and all fingers of 
both hands vibrating, when she would pour contempt upon a 
national sin. Sprague's poetry is as current and more valuable 
than the bank bills that bear his signature. Whittier is the 
poet of the slave. Pierpont is emphatically the Temperance 
Poet. 

See him standing in that magnificent Music Hall, reading 
his poem before the members of the Mercantile Library 
Society. He is straight as a palm-tree, fanned by the " airs 
of Palestine," his snow-white hair looks like a halo of glory 
about his head, and the rosy glow of health upon his face, shows 
that his heart can never grow old. Few men of his years 
(he is upwards of sixty) have been young so long as he ; few 
men of his age are so young as he is now. He always 



232 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

dresses neatly, and has an air of military compactness, looks 
well in the street or on the platform. His eyes are blue and 
brilliant ; forehead stamped with the lines of intellectual 
superiority ; temperament sanguine-nervous. In any audience 
he would be singled out as a leader. As a speaker he is 
always interesting — often eloquent. There is a rich vein of 
poetry running through his sermons and speeches, which 
enhances the value of his efforts. While speaking, he stands 
erect, and has a habit of shaking his hand, with his forefinger 
extended, when he is earnestly emphatic on any particular 
subject under discussion, at the same time moving his head, 
while his eyes flash as though he was shaking stars out of his 
forehead. I wish I had space for a more extended specimen 
of his poetry. The following beautiful and melodious stanziia 
are real poetry without a waste word : — 

Was it the chime of a tiny bell, 

That came so sweet to my dreaming ear, — 
Like the silvery tones of a fauy shell 

That winds on the beach, so mellow and clear, 
When the winds and the waves lie together asleep. 
And the moon and the fairy are watching the deep, 
She, dispensing her silvery light, 
And he, his notes as silvery quite. 
While the boatman listens and ships his oar, 
To catch the music that comes from the shore ? 
Hark ! the notes, on my ear that play, 
Are set to words : — as they float they say, 

" Passing away ! passing away !" 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 23:} 

But no ; it was not a fairy's shell, 

Blown on the beaah, so mellow and clear ; 
Nor was it the tongue of a silver bell, 

Striking the hour that filled my ear, 
As I lay in my dream ; yet it was a chime 
That told of the flow of the stream of time, 
For a beautiful clock from the ceilhig hung, 
And a plump little girl, for a penduliun swvuig 
(As you've sometimes seen in a little ring 
That hangs in his cage, a canary bird swing) ; 

And she held in her bosom a budding bouquet, 

And as she enjoyed it, she seemed to say 

" Passing away ! passing away !" 

Wlicre is the voter in America who has not heard the 
following extract from a popular poem entitled the Ballot- 
l>ox ? I quote from memory : 

We have a weapon firmer set, 

And better than the bayonet, 

A weapon that comes down as still 

As snow-flakes fall upon the sod, 
Yet executes a freeman's will, 

As lightning does the will of God. 

Perhaps no temperance poem ever had so wide a circulation 

as the "Two Incendiaries," recently published in the Life 

Boat. Here is a verse as pure, sparkling, and refreshing as the 

rain. 

• Ye gracious clouds ! ye deep, cold walls, 

Ye gems, from mossy rocks that drip ! 

Springs, that from earth's mysterious cells 

Gush o'er your granite basin's lip ! 



231 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

To you I look : — your largess give, 
And I will drink of you and live. 

Mr. P. is the author of the Airs of Palestine, a poem of 
nearly a thousand lines in the heroic measure — for sublimity 
of thought, beauty of expression, and graceful versification, it 
is unexcelled by any American production. 

Mr. P. is a native of Litchfield, Conn. He entered Yale 
College when fifteen years of age, and graduated in the 
summer of 1804. Afterwards he engaged in teaching, which 
he soon relinquished for the study of law. The practice of 
law not agreeing with his health, he entered into mercantile 
pursuits, which resulted disastrously in 1816, but his loss was 
our gain. Not long after his failure he began to prepare for 
the pulpit. Left Harvard University in 1818. Li 1819 he 
was chosen pastor of the HoUis street church, where he 
remained nineteen years. He is now pastor of a flourishing 
church in Medford. May he long live to entertain, enlighten, 
and bless the brotherhood of man. 

The extract which follows is taken from an Address deli 
vered to his unrelenting persecutors in the Hollis street church 
Boston. They assailed him witli the most persevering malig- 
nity because he rebuked them kindly but earnestly and 
repeatedly for manufacturing and selling intoxicating liquors. 
He triumphed over them all, for he had the Law as well as 
the Gospel on his side. Want of space is my excuse for not 
indulging the reader with a more extended specimen of Mr. 
Pierpont's chaste and beautiful prose. 

" And now, my brethren, as this may possibly be the last 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 



23; 



counsel that, as your minister, I may ever have an opportunity 
to give you, ttose of you especially, who have been most 
active in disquieting the sheep of this Christian fold, by your 
persecution of its shepherd — indulge me, I pray you, in one 
word more of counsel. The time is coming when you will 
thank me for it; thank me the more hoartilj, the more 
promptly you follow it. Desist — I counsel you to desist, from 
that part of your business which has been the cause of all 
this unhappy controversy ; the cause of your troubles, and 
of my trials and triumph — for I shall be triumphant at last. 
Desist from the business that, through the poverty of many, 
has made you rich — that has put you into your palaces by 
driving them, through hovels and prisons, down into the gates 
of the grave. Abandon the business that is kindling the 
fires of hatred upon your own hearth-stones, and pouring 
poison into the veins of your children — yea, and of your 
children's children, and sending the shriek of delirium through 
their chambers — the business that is now scourging our good 
land as pestilence and war have never scourged it ; nay, the 
business, in prosecuting which you are, even now, carrying a 
curse to all the continents of the world, and making our 
country a stench in the nostrils of the nations. I counsel you 
to stay your hands from this work of destruction, and wash 
them of this great iniquity, as becomes the disciples of Him 
who came not to destroy men's lives, but to save them. As 
Uis disciples, I counsel you no longer to absent yourselves 
from your wonted place of worship, and to return to your 
allegiance to your church and to God. Say to your minister, 



236 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

Well doue, good and faithful servant ! you have faithfully 
done the work that you were ordained to do. You have 
neither spared us nor feared us. You have even wounded 
us ; but faithful are the wounds of a friend. We commend 
you for your work, and charge you to go on with it, that we 
may meet together, and rejoice together m the presence of 
GoL'" 



t 



f 



( 




Pinj^iorecL"by . 




OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 



231 



HORACE GREELEY. 

The subject of this sketch is the prince of paragraphists— 
the Napoleon of Essayists. For years he has employed hia 
talents in winding and unwinding the "tangled yarn" of 
human affairs in Church and State — in Philosophy and 
Politics — in Art and Literature. He is the great recording 
secretary of this Continent, employed by the masses to take 
notes and print them. His business is to " hold the mirror up 
to Nature, and show the very age and body of the time its 
form and pressure." He has the pluck to say as an editor 
what he feels as a man — when he forgets that he is a politi- 
cian. It is then that we find truth without concealment, and 
genuine open-heartedness without wire-working behind the 
curtain. It is then he 



-" pours out all as plain 



As downright Shippen, or as old Montaigne." 

Notwithstanding his wayward whims — his eccentric man- 
ners — his love of the intangible ideal — his faith in Fourierism 
• — his responses to spirit-rappers — his man-worship when 
Henry Clay was the human god — he is still the model Editor 
and the leader of the " press gang ;" and the columns of Tht 
Tribune afford a panoramic view of the American world as il 



238 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

is. Greeley is a pen pugilist (but never a bully), and woe 
betide the unlucky wight that begins the assault. Is he a 
clergyman ? — then duodecimos, octavos, and quartos of eccle- 
siastical history will be hurled at his head, and he cannot 
dodge them though he makes a coward's castle of the pulpit. 

Is he a political man ? — then he must be right, or he will 
be flao-ellated, if he ventures to measure lances with one who 
is a walking register, and familiar with every important politi- 
cal event that has transpired for the last twenty years. He 
has more than a usual knowledge of the past. His writings 
embrace every variety of style — classic beauty, exquisite 
poetry, graphic description, vapid commonplace, the full sun- 
blaze of originality, the moon in the mist, and the ignis fatuus 
light of whimsical nonsense. It is "but just, however, to say, 
that he rarely troubles his readers with verbiage or pedantry. 
He gives us his immediate impressions of things, and his 
style depends somewhat upon the state of his health and the 
leisure at his disposal. He does not stop to tack on syllables 
to make a sentence even, nor measure periods so that they 
will be as mathematically correct as the vibrations of a pen- 
dulum ; but he dashes on, heedless of consequences. His 
widely circulated journal contains good specimens of acute 
wit, critical reasoning, solid argument, brilliant invective, pro- 
found philosophy, beautiful poetry, and moving eloquence, 
mixed with the opposites of these. 

Mr. Greeley is entirely free from heartless bigotry or hypo- 
critical obstinacy. He is benevolent in his disposition, affable 
and sociable in his manners, often speaks in public, and, owing 



OFF-HAJJD TAKINGS. 239 

to his fame as a writer, attracts considerable attention ; but he 
is pretty sure to disappoint his hearers, for he has not suflS- 
cient eloquence as an orator, to buoy up the reputation he has 
won as a writer. His manner is uncouth, his matter often 
dry, and his person by no means prepossessing. Here permit 
me to say, that his careless, slipshod, slovenly way of dressing 
his person, has rendered him a man of mark and remark. 
His white hat and white coat have been immortalized, because 
they are ever worn and everlasting. If this Whig prophet 
had more dignity and more dandyism, he would be lesa 
popular with the masses, but a great favorite with uppercrustr 
dom. 

Mr. Greeley is a practical printer, and has risen to his pre- 
sent eminence by his untiring industry, his imconquerable 
perseverance, and extraordinary talents. No man in this 
nation controls public opinion more than he. He is a Grand 
Marshal in the great army of reformers, not afraid or ashamed 
to speak — to commit himself, save when his party may suffer 
by the act. He is a patriot Whig, a philanthropic Whig, a 
temperance Whig, an anti-slavery Whig, a Whig writer, a 
Whig speaker, the editor of a Whig paper, and that paper 
one of the very best in the United States. 

No wonder Mr. Greeley knows so well how to meet the 
wants and wishes of his patrons, for he has been in the world 
ever since he was born, and has been in various situations in life • 
— charcoal burner and member of Congress. Mr. Greeley is 
about forty years of age, of nervous temperament, has a large 
head — too large for his vital organs — a pale complexion, small 



240 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

eyes, sunk under a dumpling forehead, a very scanty supply 
of very soft, white hair (not grey), which will not grow in 
front, but makes up the deficiency by a patriarchal over- 
growth behind. 

When the reader beholds a man with an old white hat 
stuck on the back of the cranium, and leaving the forehead 
bare, a shirt-collar neckerchiefless and unbuttoned, a vest 
which looks as though it had been put on with a pitch-fork, 
a pair of trowsers with one leg stuck in a coarse boot and the 
other striving in vain to reach the ankle, a coat that seems 
to have been blown upon his back, and pockets filled with 
exchange papers — he may be sure he sees Horace Greeley. 

This gentleman is a dietarian ; eats coarse, plain food, 
drinks nothing but cold water, bathes daily, and sleeps upon 
a hard bed. 

In conclusion, permit me to say, that Mr. Greeley is a man 
whose virtuous life, abstemious habits, generous deeds, and 
magnificent talents, entitle him to the admiration of his fellow 
men. ' 

The following sketch of Horace Greeley " at home " we re- 
cently found in a newspaper, the name of which we do not 
now remember. 

Some of our readers may like to hear of Horace Greeley, in 
his sanctum, and for their benefit we quote a description of 
these indispensable " appendages " to the leading newspaper 
establishment of the country. 

Mr. Greeley's personal appearance and eccentricities are 



i 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 241 

known the country through ; the former, doubtless, better, pre- 
vious to his European tour and visit to the World's Fair, than 
since, as he is said to have returned home in costume which 
would pass current on the Boulevards of Paris. Despite this 
" turning of the coats," as long as he shall be remembered, 
even so long will the fome of that very white integument, with 
hat, boots and etceteras, also survive in the memory of man. 
Accompanied by the reader, let us make our way to the 
fourth story of the 'Tribune Buildings, corner Spruce and 
Nassau streets, opposite the City Hall ' — as the notice on the 
first page of the ' Tribune ' directs us. Passing through a good- 
sized room — in which we see half a dozen men busily engaged 
with pen, ink, ahd paper — we enter a small snug apartment. 
Mr. Greeley is invariably " at home," except when travelling 
abroad, which he does pretty often, at the proper season, of 
late years. We take it for granted, therefore, that he is at 
his post, as we make him our imaginary call. There he 
stands at a desk, much like a plain counting-room desk, 
totally absorbed in writing or in his papers. This desk is 
very high, reaching nearly or quite to a level with his eyes, 
and his arm rests upon it, the elbow higher than his head. 
We believe he invariably writes in a standing position, and 
his desk is so constructed (as we have intimated) that he looks 
up rather than down to his paper. He is so constant at his 
work and so near-sighted withal, that he is obliged to follow 
this habit, or bend quite double. There are papers, pamphlets, 
and a book or two on his desk, and quantities of the former 

scattered over the floor 

11 



242 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

The distinguisliecl Editor does not notice us as we enter the 
room, nor would lie apprehend that he was intruded upon 
were we to remain all day and not make ourselves known. 
If we are strangers, and it is apparent that we " drop in " out 
of mere idle curiosity, when he has nodded his head to us, in 
response to our interruption, he resumes his labors, and we 
may as well " clear out," first as last, for we shall receive no 
further attention from him. Those unacquainted with his 
business might well consider this "hard usage," but the 
reasonable reader (whom we are presumed to have in our 
company) will recognise this course of conduct, as a rule. 
His daily visiters may be reckoned by the hundred, and were 
he to play "the agreeable" to each and every one, the sum 
total of his day's work would count an insignificant footing. 
On the other hand — if we haj^pen to be " particular ft-iends," 
politically, he will give us due attention, and we shall get 
posted up on the " state of things," and very likely receive some 
excellent practical advice, touching our future public events. 

Mr. Greeley has been through life emphatically a great 
worker. Otherwise, it is plain, he could never have accom- 
plished the imniense amount of work he has done. A near 
friend of his, at the time when he first independently ventured 
into newspaperdom, has assured us that he closely applied 
himself from fifteen to eighteen hours per day. Since he has 
become firmly established, he has in a degree, relaxed his 
eff"orts, but we know of no harder working editor, at this 
day — and that is saying a good deal for Mr. Greeley's industry 
and perseverance. 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. • 243 

Mr. Greeley is a quick composer and a rapid writer 
Printers pronounce his manuscript decidedly worse than thai 
of any other editor in the land, which is setting it at a very 
low notch indeed. In putting it in type, they declare they 
take it for what it ought to be, rather than what it seems to 
be. Lines on paper are of no use to him ; he persists that 
the pen should be a free agent, and, to be consistent, lets it 
take pretty much its own course. The fac simile of Byron's 
chirography in the large edition of this writer's works is really 
reasonable, compared with Greeley's ordinary manuscript. 

We have, perhaps, deviated somewhat from the object of 
our visit ; but, as we have described, we claim to belong 
exclusively to Greeley and his sanctum sanctorum. This last 
is a perfectly plain, unpretending room, and the only article 
in it having anything the air of luxuriousness is a good old- 
fashioned lounge, upon which, it is said, he sometimes takes a 
snooze. We are told that this remarkable man has the very 
convenient faculty of working as long as there is anything to 
be done, and then sitting down in a chair, or reclining upon 
his lounge, and finding refreshing rest in sleep. Truly, a rare 
and a comfortable habit, and admirably adapted to the neces- 
sities of such a man. 

But, having exhausted our knowledge and " said our say " 
of the room and its occupant, remembering that we treat of 
one, with whom the corner-stone of all rhetorical virtues is to 
stop when you are done, let us take ourselves oflF — casting back 
a lingering glance at the form of our friend, at his work, with 
brain, and quill, and nose converged and concentrate — and 



244 ♦ CRAYON SKETCHES, ANQ. 

sending up our earnest aspirations that he may live to stand 
at las old desk, and drive his powerful and faithful pen for 
tlie Truth and Right, — and so "leave him alone in his glory." 

In the year 1830 and 1831, he worked as an apprentice in 
a printing office in Erie, Pa., for fifty dollars a year ; out of 
that sum he saved enough to buy his father a yoke of steers 
— $25 or |30 — clothed himself, and laid by what paid his 
expenses to New York. His father at that time was very 
poor, living on a small piece of rugged hemlock land, near 
the line of Crawford co.. Pa., and Chatauque county, N. Y. 
The whole of the worldly gear of Horace, when he started for 
the city to make his fortune, might be summed up in a short 
schedule — a suit of blue cotton jeans, two brown shirts, chip 
hat, and brogans, and less than five dollars in money. 

And now, at this moment, he is wielding an influence 
greater perhaps than any other man in Ameiica. He is the 
editor-in-chief of the New York Tribune. Mr. Greeley is 
a model worker, temperate, economical, industrious, and a 
ready writer. He will make a mark upon the world, and be 
numbered among the leading spirits of the Nineteenth Cen- 

TURT. 



OfF-HAND TAKINGS. 



MOSES GRANT. 

Moses Grant has obtained a world-Avide celebrity, by hi* 
untiring efforts to ameliorate the condition of the unfortunate 
children of poverty and sorrow. The widow and the orphan 
havo reason to rise up and call him blessed. The drunkard 
and the prisoner have abundant cause to remember him 
gratefully, for his labor of love. Although advanced in years, 
he has the vigor, forecast, and decision of the prime of life. 
Between the hours of eight and one, in the morning, ho 
may be found every working-day in his office, serving the 
poor. Groups of men, women, and children, of every com- 
plexion, from every country, may be seen at his office every 
forenoon, soliciting aid and advice. The dusky African, the 
mercurial Celt, the solid Englishman, the chattering French- 
man, the lymphatic German, and the exiled Hungarian. One 
sits on a bench at the window, eating a bowl of soup — another 
stoops down to fit a pair of shoes to his feet — another strips 
the rags from his back and puts on a warm jacket. Look at 
the procession passing through the gate. Here is a boy with 
a bag of rice, there is a girl with a loaf of bread, yonder is a 
woman with a basket of provisions. See that red-faced young 
man, — his home is in the country, but he last night fell among 



246 CRAYON SKETCHES. AND 

thieves, between Broad and Beacon streets, and he has just 
borrowed a sum sufficient to take him to his parents. That 
modest woman, so plainly yet so neatly dressed, suffered 
uncomplainingly, until pinching hunger compelled her to soli- 
cit charity — her immediate wants are supplied, and employ- 
ment will be procured for her. The man with a slouched 
hat and seedy coat has signed the pledge, and left his brandy 
bottle among the curiosities in the Deacon's temperance 
museum. There comes the porter with a stack of letters and 
papers from the post-office — the former will be answered and 
the latter examined, before the rising of to-morrow's sun. 

It is now noon. The sad faced, broken-hearted, and down- 
trodden procession, has passed away from the beautiful resi- 
dence, and the owner and occupant of the mansion hurries 
down to his place of business, from that to the bank, and then 
home again, in time to dine. After dinner he calls for his 
carriage, and takes a poor boy to the Farm School — dropping 
in at South Boston to see the juvenile offenders, and" calling, 
on his return, to see a sick woman, and administer such con- 
solation and assistance as he can render. Her lips are white 
as the wild white rose, but she calls for blessings to descend 
upon kind friends, whose visits are better than medicine to 
her aching frame and breaking heart. 

The subject of this sketch is never idle. Now presiding at 
a Mass Meeting on the Common, or in Faneuil Hall, or in 
Tremont Temple — then making a speech to the convicts in 
Charlestown Prison, or visiting the paupers at Deer Island — 
or attending to his official business at the Board of Aldermen 



k 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 24*7 

— or his duties as an office bearer in the Brattle street Churcli, 
where his father served before him, in the same capacity of 
Deacon. 

His father was one of the brave men who threw the tea 
overboard in Boston harbor. Mr. Grant is the senior partner 
in a large paper establishment, Overseer of the Poor, Almoner 
for the benevolent who choose to contribute of their abundance 
for the relief of the distressed ; President of the Boston Tem- 
perance Society, and a director in many other institutions. 
He is a man of fortune, has a good education, and has visited 
Europe. He writes a sensible letter, and makes a practical 
speech ; is peculiarly happy in his remarks to children, and 
always a welcome visitor at all juvenile demonstrations. For 
many years he has been identified with the temperance cause. 
His house, and purse, and heart, are ever open for the advance- 
ment of his favorite enterprise. He is the unfaltering friend 
and patron of that eminent orator, J. B. Gough, and stood by 
liis side in the hour of trial, when summer friends forsook 
him. 

It is rather difficult to describe his person. The portrait 
in the American Temperance Magazine is a pretty foir resem- 
blance, although not a perfect likeness. He has brown hair 
— sprinkled with lines of silver — blue eyes, thin face, cheeks 
somewhat sunken, is rather under the medium size. . He is 
of the nervous-sanguine temperament; has a singular habit 
of twitching the muscles of his face and shrufrcrinGf his shoul- 
ders when excited ; often speaks abruptly, when pressed with 
business, and does not always appear to the best advanta-^e 



248 GRArON SKETCHES, AND 

at first sight, but wears well and "improves on acquaintance." 
In a word, he is a man of sound judgment, superior business 
talents, a practical philanthropist, and a sincere Christian. 
For many years he has been a hero in the battle-field of life, 
and many would be willing to give a dukedom to possess the 
green laurels and golden honors he has won. 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 249 



GEORGE N. BRIGGS. 

Lives of great men all remind ns 

We may make our lives sublime, 
And, departing, leave behind us 

Foot-prints on tlie sands of time. 

Longfellow. 

His Excellency, George N. Briggs, is an American 
nobleman in the full-orbed manhood of life. He is robust, 
of broad build, and medium height. His eyes are blue, and 
his brown hair is tinged with the frost of more than fifty 
winters. His forehead is wide and high, and indicates more 
than a mediocrity of intellect, and his countenance is of a 
serious and thoughtful cast. He dresses plainly, and never 
wears a collar above his cravat. We attribute this freak of 
taste to his innate love of liberty. He certainly is unlike the 
drunkard who was such an ultra republican he would not 
wear a crown in his hat. He belongs to the Baptist church, 
and is one of its most eflScient and influential members. Ho 
takes a deep and lively interest in the religious and reforma- 
tory movements of the age. In the temperance ranks he has 
fought many battles and gained many victories. When for- 
gotten as Governor of the glorious old Commonwealth of 
Massachusetts, he will be gratefully remembered as having 
been a successful champion of the temperance enterprise. 

Gov. Briggs recently manifested a disposition to secure 

11* 



250 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

furtlier legislation on the snbject of temperance, and lie dia 
not handle that question as good old Izaak Walton did the 
frog he used for a bait, touching it tenderly, as though he 
would put the hook into its mouth without hurting it. In 
this way he displeased the publicans and sinners more than 
he did the friends of the total abstinence cause. He is always 
right on this question, and deserves great credit for his devo- 
tion to the principles of the pledge, and his courageous 
advocacy of its doctrines. It is difficult for a politician to be 
a philanthropist, but he is more of the latter than the former. 
He is not a bogus republican, friendly on election days and 
forgetful at other times. He is not a hypocrite, who sjjreads 
palm leaves in the path of Jesus when he is popular in 
Jerusalem, and denies him after he is nailed to the cross. Ho 
believes men live in the deeds they do, and not in the noise 
they make ; in the thoughts they have, and not in the breaths 
they draw ; in the beatings of a good heart, and not in the 
throbbings of a gold repeater. 

When the Hon. Edward Everett delivered the eulogy on 
the death of the lamented Adams, every little great man in 
the city, who had an opportunity to make a display, was bedi- 
zened with the tinselry, jewelry, and regalia of office ; but the 
Governor, who is a wise man and a good man, wore a plain 
citizen's dress, marked with a simple badge of mourning. 
He knows that birth, genius, talent, learning, wealth, and per- 
sonal attractions do not alone make one man better than 
another. A man may carry a silver-headed cane and wear a 
wooden head. He may learn the time he squanders from a 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 251 

gold watch, while his heart is as corrupt as a nest of unclean 
birds. He may have a soft hand at one end of his arm and 
a softer head at the other. A fool with a fortune is pretty 
sure to clothe his back more than he cultivates his brains. 

Governor Briggs was apprenticed to the hatting business 
at an early period of his life, and although he afterwards 
became a lawyer, he never treated working men with disre- 
spect. He loves to grasp the hand hardened by toil, and 
whether a man's face be bronzed at the plough or bleached in 
the mill, whether he be clad in ruffles or in rags, he is sure to 
meet with a warm and welcome and unostentatious reception 
when introduced to George N. Briggs. He is not so eminent 
a lawyer as he is a Governor, although he is considered an 
Aristides in his profession. He is an attractive speaker, and 
is always ready on all suitable occasions to give free utterance 
to his manly sentiments. He is more fluent than eloquent, 
more solid than brilliant, more inclined to elaborate arguments 
and relate facts than to round periods and polish sentences. 
When his voice is not hoarse, and his mind is roused, he will 
occasionally thrill the heart like a blast from a trumpet. 

During his stay in Congress he oi-ganized a Congressional 
Temperance Society, which did a vast amount of good, but, 
unfortunately, it died out soon after he returned to Massa- 
chusetts. In the Sabbath School this distinguished man is 
" at home." Let the nobles of the land copy his example in 
this respect, and make themselves useful in their day and 
generation. 

Governor Briggs has, among his political opponents, many 



252 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

personal friends. He doubtless has imperfections, but few 
public men have less. It is said that he has exercised too 
much clemency towards convicts whom he has pardoned ; if 
this be a fault, it leans towards the side of virtue. Some think 
his course respecting the Mexican war reprehensible, but this 
is not the time nor the place to investigate that matter. 
Some complain that he has not sufficiently imbibed the spirit 
of anti-slavery, but as we are not all organized, nor educated, 
nor situated alike, we must make some allowance for differ- 
ences of opinion. Whatever may be the opinion of some, he 
will long be remembered as a consistent Christian, and the 
model Governor of the Old Bay State. 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 25S 



I 



THEODORE PARKER. 

This, like a public inn, proyides a treat, 
Where each promiscuous guest sits ilown to eat; 
And such this mental food as we may call 
Something to all men, and to some men all." 

Cbabbb. 

Let the reader imagine it is Sunday morning. The bells 
are tolling, and the good church-going people of Boston are 
wending their way to the various places of worship which 
are open for religious services. Suppose jire spend an hour 
this forenoon at the Melodeon, and hear the celebrated 
philanthropist who usually preaches there. 

Mr. Parker is seated in an arm-chair on the platform. 
A Bible and a bunch of flowers are on the desk in front of 
him, and it is difficult to say beforehand from which of the 
two he will select bis text. He will doubtless glorify the 
fragrant and beautiful blossoms, and condemn some parts of 
the inspired volume, before he concludes his address. See 
him rise slowly and walk gently toward the desk. He now 
leans upon it, closes his eyes, clasps his hands, and commen- 
ces prayer, in an inaudible voice. Now the hoarse whisper 
becomes a low, murmuring sound. Now you hear words, 
and a whole sentence occasionally, and wish you had coma 
earlier so as to have obtained a seat nearer the preacher 



254 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

Nov, by opening your ears and watching his lips attentively, 
you can hear his prayer ; but if God is not present, there is 
no one there who understands it. It abounds with smart 
maxims, deep philosophical reflections, pious acknowledg- 
ments, earnest invocations, and reverential promises. 

He has taken his text and commenced reading his manu- 
script. His voice is rather husky, and his thick lips seem 
unwilling to part. He now speaks louder and more dis- 
tinctly ; his lead-like eyes begin to glow with genius, and his 
bald head seems to shine transparently with thought, while 
he utters, in choice and classical English, sentiments so new, 
so strange, so mighty, and so mad with radicalism, incorrigi- 
ble conservatives are ofiended. He is a moral Columbus, 
who discovers whole continents of thought, and is sure to 
cause mutiny in the ship he sails in, because he ventures so 
far from the dry land on which most men build their hopes. 
Indeed, he is regarded as a theological corsair, and most of 
our great guns have been levelled at him, but he sails on 
uninjured, amid the roar of their opposition, although he 
frequently endangers his own immortal life by mistaking a 
whale's back for a green island. His philosophy and his 
divinity do not agree, for his philosophy is more divine than 
his divinity. He has but little faith in any part of Scripture 
that is not apparently susceptible of interpretations favora- 
ble to his peculiar views of religious duty, and does not 
hesitate to ridicule those passages which come in collision 
with his "Utopian" doctrines. In this way he unintention- 
ally destroys, in the minds of many, all reverence foJ 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 205 

religion, and obliterates the sense of moral obligation. If 
his hearers were all learned philosophers, his lectures would 
be invaluable to them ; but they consist of all classes. The 
wise, who sift the wheat from the chaff, may live under hia 
teaching, but the mass, who swallow everything be offers, 
are in danger of suffering all the pangs of spiritual starva- 
tion. 

He is a true and thorough reformer, and advocates with 
great zeal and greater ability the peace reform, the temper- 
ance reform, the anti-slavery and anti-hanging reforms. In 
the course of his sermon he is sure to apply the rod to 
" Uncle Sam's prize-fighters," the Army and the Navy. 
The old autocrat Alcohol will be flagellated — the South will 
receive a blow here — the church will get a whack there — 
and the gallows will be kicked over yonder. He reminds 
ane of the schoolmasters of ancient times, but he serves 
^rcat men as they did little boys. Statesmen, clergymen, 
aristocrats, are called up and publicly chastised, if they do 
not say their lessons correctly. A few days ago, Daniel 
Webster had to hold out his hand and feel the ferrule — Gen. 
Jass is frequently compelled to stand on the dunce-block at 
1*16 Melodeon — Foote has to wear the cap and bells every 
time he threatens to hang or shoot his fellow Senators — he 
pats Benton on the shoulders by way of encouragement, 
when he speaks for freedom — John P. Hale he thinks is a 
precocious child of great promise — Ralph Waldo Emerson 
is so far advanced in knowledge, he would employ him as 
usher in his school. 



256 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

Mr. Parker's matter is more fascinating tlian his manner 
Indeed, he is often awkward in his gestures and indistinct in 
his utterance, but he has the happy facultj'- of compressing a 
volume of meaning in a few simple words. He never appeare 
before an audience without giving his hearers at least one 
drop of fragrance which contains the concentrated essence of 
a v/hole garden of roses. 

He is the poor man's friend, although he regards poverty 
as an unmidgated curse — and would never be like the hypo- 
crites who pass by on the other side when humanity ia 
prostrate, bleeding, and beseeching help. He has an extra- 
ordinary share of moral courage, and wages war like a hero, 
against the kingdom of scoundreldom. He is fond of the 
company of the gods, and talks about Mars, Jupiter, Neptune, 
as though they had been his school-mates ; is a modern 
among the ancients, an ancient amongst the moderns ; will 
tell you with perfect coolness, that Paul was not so good a 
writer as Socrates ; that Jesus was a perfect man, that by-and- 
by there will be other men as perfect as Jesus ; and that the 
statutes of Moses are not equal to those of Massachusetts. 
He seems to spurn what he cannot fathom, and condemn 
what he cannot comprehend. He doubts whether Christ 
could perform miracles, because he cannot perform miracles 
himself; thinks inspiration is reason magnetized; the Bible an 
interesting, but not always reliable history of the Jews, the 
popular religion of the times a delusive sham ; loves to 
trace human progress from the barbarous ages to the present 
time, and then look forward to a golden future. Were he to 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 257 

manifest more reverence for the truths of revelation, and show 
that he placed as much faith in God as he does in man, ha 
would, with his varied learning and great talents, accomplish 
an immeasurable amount of good ; and many young men who 
have more faith in a newspaper than they have in the New 
Testament, would endorse its sentiments and follow the pre- 
cepts of that heavenly guide. 

Mr. Parker is a chaste and elegant writer, his works are 
widely circulated and read by scholars on both continents. 
Although he is denounced as an infidel by his opponents, he 
certainly behaves like a Christian in his private intercourse 
with his fellow men. He thinks there is nothing in the 
world so sacred as man, which accounts for the fact that ho 
hates flogging in the Navy, and is opposed to hanging, and 
oppression, and intemperance, and the butchery of the battle- 
field. 

He is upwards of forty years of age, rather under the 
medium stature, head large and bald, and his face dull, until 
he becomes animated before an audience ; is quite popular as 
a lyceura lecturer, and is in great demand during the 
lecturing season. 

The subject of this sketch, though wrong in theory, is 
right in practice, and has courage enough to seize the social 
and public evils by the throat. We, as a community, are 
deeply indebted to him for his efforts to improve the condi- 
tion of the unfortunate. He " goes " for baths, ventilators; 
hard beds, coarse food, cold water, and cheerfulness, and 
'^ goes " against tobacco, hot slops, quack medicines, thin 



258 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

shoes, and tight lacing ; hates bigotry, gluttony, drunkenness, 
poverty, war, and slavery, and loves purity, fidelity, liberty, 
equality, fraternity. He is one of the most learned and 
gifted men in America, and is a better Christian than some of 
his bigoted detractors, who say he is like Noah's carpenters, 
who built a ship for other folks to sail in, and yet were 
drowned themselves. 

The following passage in eulogy of Amos Lawrence, who 
died in this city on the 31st ult., is from a sermon by Rev. 
Theodore Parker, preached on the next Sabbath. We copy 
from the " Commonwealth :" — 

" Only two days ago, there died in this city, a man rich in 
money, but far more rich in manhood. I suppose he had his 
faults, his deformities of character. Of course he had. It 
takes many to make up a complete man. Humanity is so 
wide and deep that all the world cannot drink it dry. He 
came here poor ; from a country town. He came with 
nothing — nothing but himself, I mean , and a man is not 
appraised, only taxed. He came obscure ; nobody knew 
Amos Lawrence forty-five years ago, nor cared whether the 
handkerchief in which he carried his wardrobe, trudging to 
town, was large or little. He acquired a large estate : got it 
by honest industry, forecast, prudence, thrift. He earned 
what he got, and a great deal more. He was proud of his life ; 
honorably proud that he made his own fortune, and started 
with nothing but his hands.' Sometimes he took gentle- 
raep- o Groton, and showed them half-a-mile of stone-wal] 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 25G 

which the boy Amrs had laid on the paternal homestead 
This was something for a rich merchant to be prcud of. 

" He knew what few men understand — when to stop 
accumulating. At the age when the summer of passion has 
grown cool, and the winter of ambition begins seriously to set 
in ; when avarice and love of power, of distinction and of 
office, begin to take hold of men ; when the leaves of distinc- 
tive generosity fall oflf, and the selfish bark begins to tighten 
about the man — some twenty years ago, when he had 
acquired a large estate, he said to himself — ' Enough ! No 
more accumulation of that sort to make me a miser, and my 
children worse than misers.' So he sought to use nobly what 
he had manfully won. He didn't keep 

' A brave old house, at a bountiful rate, 
With half-a-score of servants to wait at the gate.' 

He lived comfortably, but discreetly. 

" His charity was greater than his estate. In the last 
twenty or thirty years, he has given away to the poor a 
larger fortune than he has left to his family. But he gave 
with as much wisdom as generosity. His money lengthened 
his arm, because he had a good heart in his bosom. He 
looked up his old customers whom he had known in his 
poorer days — which were their rich ones — and helped them in 
their need. He sought the poor of this city, and its neigh- 
borhood, and gave them his gold, his attention, and the 
sympathy of his heart. He prayed for the poor, but prayed 
gold. He built Churches — not for his own sect alone, for h« 



260 



CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



had piety without narrowness, and took religion in a natural 
way ; churches for Methodists, Baptists, Unitarians, for poor, 
oppressed black men, fugitive slaves in Canada, nay, more, 
he helped them in their flight. He helped colleges — gave 
them libraries, and philosophical apparatus. He sought out 
young men of talents and character, but poor, and struggling 
for education, and made a long arm to reach down to their 
need, sending parcels of books, pieces of cloth to make a 
scholar's jacket or cloak, or money to pay his term bills. He 
lent money, when the loan was better than the gift. That 
bountiful hand was felt on the shore of the Pacific. He was 
his own executor, and the trustee of his own charity funds. 
He didn't leave it for his heirs to distribute his benevolence at 
their cost. At his own cost, he administered the benefactions 
of his testament. At the end of a fortunate year, he once 
found thirty thousand dollars more than he looked for, as his 
share of the annual profits. In a month he had invested it 
all — in various charities. He couldn't eat his morsel alone — 
the good man ! 

" His benevolence came out also in smaller things, in his 
daily life. He let the boys cling on behind his carriage — 
grown men did so, but invisibly ; he gave sleigh-rides to boys 
and girls, and had a gentle word and kindly smile for all he met. 

" He coveted no distinction. He had no title, and wasn't 
a ' General,' a ' Colonel,' a ' Captain,' or ' Honorable ' — onl j 
plain ' Mister,' ' Esquire,' and ' Deacon,' at the end. 

" His charity was as unostentatious as the dew in summer. 
Blessing the giver by the motive, the receiver by the quicker 



OFF-HAND TAKINOP. 261 

life and greener growth, it made no noise in falling to the 
ground. In Boston, which suspiciously scrutinizes righteous- 
ness with the same eye that blinks at the most hideous 
profligacy, though as public as the street — even the daily 
press never accused his charity of loving to be looked at. 

" Of good judgment, good common-sense, careful, exact 
methodical, diligent, he was not a man of great intellect. He 
had no uncommon culture of the understanding or the imagi- 
nation, and of the higher reason still less. But in respect of 
the greater faculties — in respect of conscience, afi"ection, the 
religious element, he was well-born, well-bred, and eminently 
well disciplined by himself. 

" He was truly a religious man. I do not mean to say he 
thought as Calvin or Luther thought, or believed by Peter, 
James, or John. Perhaps he believed some things which the 
apostles never thought of, and rejected others which they all 
held in reverence. When I say that he was a religious man, 
I mean he loved God, and loved men. He had no more 
doubt that God would receive him to Heaven, than that he 
himself would make all men happy if he could. Reverencing 
God, he reverenced the laws of God — I mean the natural laws 
of morality — the laws of justice and of love. His religion 
was not ascetic, but good-natured and of a cheerful counte- 
nance. His piety became morality. The first rule that he 
took to his counting-house was the Golden Rule ; he never 
laid it by, buying and selling and giving by that standard 
measure. So he travelled along, on that path which widena 
and briirhtens as it leads to heaven. 



262 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

" Here was a man who knew the odds between the Me.-ins 
of Livino- and the Ends of Life. He knew the true use of 
riches. They served as a material basis for great manly 
excellence. His ton of gold was a power to feed, to clothe, to 
house, and warm, and comfort needy men ; a power to educate 
the mind, to cheer the affections, to bless the soul. To many 
a poor boy, to many a sad mother, he gave a ' merry Christ- 
mas ' on the earth, and now in due time, God has taken him 
lo celebrate Epiphany and New Year's day in Heaven !" 




Sugrxved "by J C Buttre 




OFF-HANn TAKINGS. 2M 



NEAl DOW. 

The man who had the talent to frame and the courage to 
execute the Maine Law, deserves to be honored and remem- 
bered by every patriot and philanthropist in our broad free 
land. Neal Dow is the Kossuth of the temperance revolu- 
tion, and his name is already registered in the book of fame, 
" among the few, toe immortal names not born to die." 
Poets sing his praise, painters put his shadow on their can- 
vass — historians record his deeds, and multitudes of appreci- 
ating mothers will call their children by his name. 

We wrote pledges, made speeches, obtained signatures, 
formed societies, and framed laws, to suppress intemperan.ce ; 
we tried moral, magnetic, Bible, and ballot-box suasion ; we 
plead, and prayed, and promised, and did incalculable good, 
but failed to accomplish the entire extinction of the rum traf- 
fic, the consummation so devoutly desired. "We were brought 
to a moral Panama, with a gulf of billows rolling between us 
and a golden California beyond, without bridge or boat to 
carry us safely over to the land of promise, when Neal Dow, 
who understood every rope in the ship, took the helm, and 
piloted our storm-beaten vessel into the harbor of safety. 

Yes, a private citizen of Maine, possessing the stern will 
and Puritan zeal " of the earlier and better day," arose in the 



264 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

dignity of conscious strength, and with the sweep of hia 
strong arm wiped away the stain of black intemperance from 
the State. Without the aid of the Army or the Navy, he 
routed the most formidable and dangerous enemy that ct)uld 
assail the Commonwealth. 

Lean and pallid avarice, haggard appetite, stupid igno- 
rance, bloated bigotry, devilish demagogueism, stood in his 
way, clad to the teeth in armor, but he feared them no more 
than Bunyan's Christian feared the beasts he met on his 
way to the Celestial city. He extinguished the fires of the 
only distillery in the State, and wrote tekel on the walls of 
every wine palace in Maine. Who is this modern Moses 
who smote the Red Sea with the rod of the law, so that the 
people can travel dry-shod ? He is a man who has a head to 
think, a heart to feel, a tongue to explain, and a hand to 
execute ; is respectably educated, not learned, comfortably 
independent, not a millionaire ; speaks conversationally, not 
eloquently ; is a plain, practical man, with a strong mind and 
an iron will. Had he lived in the days of Cromwell, he 
would have been a leader in the battered band that fought 
side by side with the " Usurper." . He speaks as one having 
authority, and looks like one born to command. He is in 
the meridian of life — about five feet seven inches in height, 
and well proportioned ; has dark hair, a square forehead, 
which does not at first glance indicate more than a medi- 
ocrity of mind ; eye-brows rather ponderous, cheek-bones 
somewhat prominent, complexion dark. The peculiar form 
of his mouth and chin pronounces him a man of obstinate 



I 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 265 

fii-mness. There is a sort of come on, I am ready for you., 
look about his face, which affords unmistakable evidence 
that he will not countenance the liquor trade. He looks as 
though he could chase a thousand rum-sellers, and with the 
aid of the Maine Law, put ten thousand to flight. 

Neal Dow is the son of a Quaker, and surely he fights 
valiantly for one who has been trained to observe the prin- 
ciples of peace. He does not claim religious relationship 
with any sect, but is a firm believer in the truths of Divine 
Revelation, and observes devotional duties in his family. 
For many years he has been identified with the temperance 
movement in Maine (his native State), where he has labored 
and lectured gratuitously, for the welfare of his fellow citizens. 
Frequently has he appeared before the Legislature with 
petitions praying for laws so stringent as to prohibit the 
liquor trade, and finally ho succeeded in cutting out some 
work for his country. 

He is a tanner by trade, and although he has (I may be 
misinformed) retired from business, he has left the hides of 
many rum-sellers on the fence. Wonder if they would not 
make good shoes, since they are water-proof? There is not 
a lawyer in the land who could have drafted a better bill than 
that which has so effectually excommunicated intemperance 
from the glorious State which is the nearest to the golden 
gates of sunrise. The law declares that intoxicating drinks 
shall not be made and sold, to be used as a beverage, in Maine 
— that an agent shall be appointed in each city or town to 
sell spirits for mechanical and medicinal purposes only — that 

12 



266 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

common sellers shall be heavily fined and imprisosed for per- 
sistinor in violatinof the law — that no lawless ru.TTt-«'.eller shall 
be allowed to sit as a juror on a rum suit — that liquors may 
be searched for, seized, and destroyed — that in o«#o of appeal, 
bonds must be given that the case will be pro*»(jCUt6d, and if 
the judgment goes against the defendant, lie must pay 
double the fine and suffer double the impriso'tmeftt, &c., &c. 
Read the law, it is a good one. It has not b*>en pared down 
by abridgment, nor patched up with amendments. It is the 
people's law, and not the law of politicians. It is a terror tc 
those who do ill, and a praise to those who do well. Jt is a 
fire annihilator, and works well out doors or in, and the effect 
is the same whether the building be a small one or a large 
one. Success to the Main Law, which is the Law of Maine, 
With the following impromptu we conclude this sketch •— • 

Thy holy laws are stereotyped to deeds, 
Thy honored name is now our nation's pride ! 
Upon our cottage walls thy portrait shines ! 
We call our children by thy magic name ! 
Our poets laud thee in immortal verse ! 
Thy monuments in Maine are empty jails, 
Thy laurels, laws observed and unrepealed. 
Thy medals, grateful hearts of men redeemed. 
Thy friends, the noblest of the human race. 
E'en Legislatures stop to learu thy laws, 
And nations shout thy name across the deep ! 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 26"? 



PHILIP S. WHITE. 

Everybody said, " Let us go to the great meeting at Tre- 
mont Temple, this evening, and hear Philip S. White, the 
distinguished champion of the temperance reform." At the 
appointed hour, that magnificent forum was filled with tho 
wealth, beauty, talent, and moral worth of Boston. The 
immense building was brilliantly illuminated, as though the 
sun had risen behind the orchestra, and concentrated its rays 
within tho walls of the Temple. On the platform were some 
of the elite and literati of society, — aiithors, orators, and phi- 
lanthropists. After the usual preliminaries, at the commence' 
ment of the exercises, skilful fingers touched the magic keys 
of the mammoth organ, and we were pleasantly entertained 
with sweet strains of delightful melody. Sometimes it seemed 
as if a choir of soft-voiced maidens was enclosed behind those 
golden columns, singing such rich, lute-like airs, that angels, 
on their mission of mercy, might have mistaken that place for 
the gate of heaven. Then the heavy bass would roll like a 
wave of thunder through the large hall, startling the charmed 
hearers to a sense of the foct that they were still under the 
clouds. 

As the music subsided, a tall, portly man, on the mellow 
side of fifty, arose to address the audience. "Is that the man 



268 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

who stood at the head of the Order of the Sons of Tempe 
ranoe ?" was the general inquiry. '' It is," was th< response. 
The " observed of all observers," on this occasion, is a person 
of good mould, somewhat bald, but makes up that deficiency 
by a luxurious growth of whiskers, which become his face as 
feathers do an eagle. He has a large, aquiline, Bardolphian 
nose, dark eyes, and a wide mouth, indicative of eloquence 
and good nature. He commences in a conversational pitch 
of voice ; face dull and passionless as marble ; has spoken ten 
minutes without saying anything, and the sanguine expecta- 
tions of the people are sadly disappointed. The hearers bow 
their heads like bulrushes, and some would leave the meeting 
but that they hope for better things. He is not quite so prosy 
now as he was fifteen minutes ago. His voice is deeper and 
clearer, his utterance more rapid and distinct, and his face shines 
as though it had been freshly oiled. There is a resurrection 
now among the bowed heads; he has just made a thrilling 
appeal, which moved the audience like a shock from an electric 
battery. Now he relates a tale of pity, which is drawing tears 
from eyes " unused to weep." Now he surprises his attentive 
hearers with an unanticipated stroke of humor, which makes 
them laugh until they shake the tear-drops from their cheeks. 
All are glad they came now, for the orator is in his happiest 
mood, his blood is up, and his tongue as free as the pen of a 
ready writer. He throws light on the question by the corrusca- 
tions of his attic wit ; drives home a truth by solid argument, 
and clinches it by a quotation from Scripture ; convulses the au- 
ditory by using a ludicrous comparison ; convinces them by 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 26? 

presenting sober-faced statistics ; entertains them by relating 
an appropriate anecdote, and fires their indignation against the 
traffic, while the rum-dealers present shake in their shoes. Hrt 
warns the drinkers with a voice which arouses them like a clap 
of thunder through a speaking-trumpet. In a Avord, his spark- 
ling satire, keen wit, eloquent declamation, happy comparisons, 
classical allusions, rib-cracking fun, and-heart-melting pathos, 
render him one of the most efiicient public speakers in Ame- 
rica. 

Mr. White can labor a syllogism, or tell a story, with the 
same ease that Talleyrand could turn a cofi*ee-mill or a king- 
dom. He goes for moral, legal, Bible, pocket, and ballot-box 
suasion. His inimitable histrionic powers enable him to tell a 
story admirably. He has almost omnipotent power in swaying 
the minds and hearts of his hearers, when he is fairly engaged, 
and has a sea of crystal faces before him. He speaks without 
notes, and is so careless, withal, that he preserves no minutes 
of his speeches ; consequently, when he responds to a second 
invitation to visit a place, he is apt to repeat the same stories, 
although he has an inexhaustible supply of unused material 
always on hand. He has studied human nature so thoroughly 
he knows how to reach the hearts of the masses. If the people 
will but listen to his lectures, they will open their mouths so 
earnestly he could almost reach their hearts by the way of the 
oesophagus. Mr. White is personally known on the green 
mountains of Vermont, on the granite hills of New Hampshire, 
in the pleasant valley of the Connecticut, on the banks of the 
Mississippi ; has hosts of friends at the sunny South, at the 



270 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

stormy North, and the far-off West. Years ago he made th« 
tour of Europe. At that time he was fond of luxurious living 
and unweaned from the wine-cup ; he was a good judge ot 
Otard and Madeira, and can speak from personal experience on 
matters pertaining to fashionable drinking. 

Mr. White is a good specimen of a Kentucky gentleman — 
gallant, generous, and urbane. Indeed, he can accommodate 
himself to any company, and would be a welcome guest at the 
table of a duke, or feel perfectly at home in the cottage of a 
peasant. He must have been a studious man in his day, but 
he has bravely overcome that habit now ; for he would rather 
hold a man by the button all day, entertaining him by telling 
stories, than to read a page or write a " stick-full " of matter 
for a newspaper. When he has a report to make, he will 
throw the burden, if he can possibly do so, on shoulders not so 
able to bear it as his own, and he will put off the unwelcome 
task to the last hour, then dash off an impromptu report, and 
beauty will break out of statistics and facts, like flowers on the 
rod of Aaron. Sometimes he visits Subordinate Divisions of 
his favorite Order, as well as Sections of the juvenile Cadets, 
to fire the zeal, strengthen the faith, and encourage the hopes 
of the " Sons " and their sons. I once heard him address one 
of the latter societies on the evils arising from the use of to- 
bacco, but, unfortunately, he had that evening quite a gathering 
in his own mouth, which somewhat choked his utterance. The 
not altogether unusual swelling somewhat disappeared before 
the meeting adjourned, and it is hoped that by this time he 
has got entirely rid of it. 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 271 

Mr. Wliite is good company, a good stor /-teller, and a ter 
ror to all bypochondriacism and dyspepsia. Blessed are they 
who hear his voice and see his face, for they shall laugh and 
grow fat, I am no stickler for empty dignity, but remain 
under the impression that Mr. W. is not so dignified at the 
fireside as he is in the forum. There are vulgar persons who 
call him the Hon. Philip S. White when they speak of his 
public efforts, and yet abbreviate the title to Fhil. in their 
personal interourse with him. He is no favorite with those 
who will not '"give up a 'pint' of doctrine nor a pint of rum," 
for as the bottle-imp of Asmodeus unroofed the houses of 
Madrid, for the gratification of Le Sage's servant, so he uncovers 
the hearts of those whose bigotry or appetite or interest oppose 
the temperance reformation. Mr. White is by profession a 
lawyer, and, if I am correctly informed, was at one period of 
his life Attorney-General of one of tlie Western Territories. 
He is proud of his lineage, and is not backward in speaking 
about his former position in society, which is in bad taste, since 
he is now in a loftier position than any Baronet of England. 

The fraternity, I think, manifested forecast worthy of their 
trust when they selected him to be their leader, for his abun- 
dant self-sacrificing and faithful labors in this country and in 
the neighboring Provinces, have accomplished incalculable 
good to the cause in general, and won unfading laurels for him 
in particular. He is the author of a work entitled the " War 
of Four Thousand Years," and a tract entitled " Vindication 
of the Order." It is a pity that he did not give a more Chris- 
tian name to the first, and a matter of regret that he went 



2*72 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

into partnership with others in writing either. His aamirers 
would like to see a book from his own pen, and know that he 
wrote it. His idea of a national newspaper organ, to he 
managed by some master-mind of the National Division, does 
not meet with general approval, because it would be unwise to 
put such power into the hands of one man , because it would 
narrow the circulation of the local papers to the starving point ; 
because one sheet would not suit every meridian ; because the 
temperance press now in operation is not properly sustained ; 
because there is as much editorial tact and talent connected 
with the local press as can be found in the National Division ; 
because monopolies are monsters not favorable to the growth 
of Love, Purity, or Fidelity, the characteristics of our Order. 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 



CHARLES SUMNER. 

New York is the head-quarters of commerce, a great wil« 
derness of marble and mortar, the abode of merchant princes 
and millionaires. Its harbor is crowded with ships from every 
nation, its mammoth mercantile establishments contain every 
variety of fabric and produce, its streets are busy as a broken 
ant-heap, its spires point, like fingers of pilgrims, to the land 
of the beautiful above, and its grog-shops are plentiful as car- 
buncles on the face of the toper. It has the best editors, and 
the poorest speakers, of any city in the Union. Philadelphia 
is noted for handsome buildings erected on straight lines. It 
is the metropolis of magazinedom, where Graham and Godey 
make gold and win golden honors. It is famed for the bro- 
therly love of its inhabitants, which trait is beautifully displayed 
in the manner in which they get up rows and send their fel- 
low-citizens to Heaven. Boston is the bank of New-England, 
the beacon-light of reform, the seat of science and learning, the 
forum of chaste, classical, thrilling, heart-quaking, soul-stirring 
eloquence. There is no city in the United States that contains 
so much speaking talent as Boston. Baltimore is choleric, 
noisy, and patriotic ; Philadelphia is fastidious, lymphatic, and 
metaphysical ; Washington is like Babel, where there is a con- 
fusion of languages, or like a vineyard of lazy laborers, where 

12* 



274 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

there is a •' wlney " atmosphere ; New York is energetic, bom- 
bastic, and original ; Cincinnati is slow of speech, but sound 
at the heart ; Boston is radical, forcible, eloquent. 

Among the most eminent speakers in the modern Athens, 
Charles Sumner stands preeminently conspicuous, for tho 
classic elegance of his style, the Protean power of his thought, 
and the finished beauty of his illustrations. He is one of the 
most remarkable men of this remarkable age, and a combi- 
nation of circumstances have rendered him the darlins' 
favorite of good fortune. He was cradled in Faneuil Hall, 
Judge Story was his teacher, and Harvard University the 
school in which he was taught. When he had availed him- 
self of the advantages afforded by this institution of learn- 
ing, he made the tour of the continent. England, France 
and Germany contributed liberally to his store of knowledge. 
If he has not an ample competence, he has what is better — 
an axx^y of friends and a thorough education. 

Charles Sumner is a stockholder in the bank of original 
thought. We may know he has considerable bullion there, 
for his drafts are honored at sight, and our first men are his 
endorsers. He has great power of condensation, without the 
wearisome monotony which often accompanies the writings 
and sayings of close thinkers and rigid reasoners. There is a 
vigorous and graceful stateliness, an easy felicity, a fastidious 
accuracy, and an imperial dignity in his style, which is both 
commanding and fascinating. There is a vast breadth of com 
prehension and a vast depth of meaning in his matter. There 
is also a luminous beauty, a Gothic grandeur, a sublime gor- 
geousness, in his labored and polished essays, which entitl'? 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 2*75 

them to the appellation of prose poems. He sometimes invests 
his ideas in such lively, such attractive, such speaking, such 
magic language, and displays so much philosophical sagacity, 
so much poetical sensibility, so much profound knowledge of 
ecclesiastical and political history, the reader and the listenei 
are carried away on the current, while they are admiring, 
almost adoring, the man whose kindling words have set their 
imaginations on fire. 

Mr. Sumner's orations are written with great care. They 
abound with allusions to the sayings and doings of the ancients, 
and manifest deep research and profound thought. His bril- 
liant arguments at the bar have elicited unbounded admira- 
tion, and his model manner of delivery enhances the value of 
his eloquent appeals. The dreary desert of a common case is 
sure to bloom with garden beauty under his management. 
The forum, however, is his forte. He has the dignity of Pitt, 
without his pompous declamation ; the sublimity of Burke, 
without his tedious uniformity ; the vigor of Fox, without his 
roughness. He is not so fluent as the first, not so classical as 
the second, not so ready and original as the third. He has 
more solidity but less eloquence than Phillips ; more energy 
but less originality than Mann; more poetry and as much 
polish as Everett. His heart is not an island, separated from 
his head, but a peninsula, uniting one with the other. There 
is a relationship between the throb of the former and the 
thought of the latter. There is a joining of impulse and intel- 
lect. The afiections and the reflections are brothers and sisters. 
The heart thinks and feels, the head feels and thinks. 



276 CRAYON SKETCHES, AN1> 

Tn this respect Mr. Sumner differs from not a few distiiv 
guislied men. Sumner believes in Christian law, and throws 
the weight of his influence, the force of his example, and the 
skill of his profession, in the scale of the right and true. lie 
is a preacher of peace, a lover of freedom, a worker for prison 
amelioration — in short, a noble soldier in the ranks of reform. 
With a generous, impulsive nature, he feels the woes and suf 
ferings of every portion of the human family. 

Charles Sumner is a popular man. The masses admire him 
because there is no " douixh " in his face, no dema^oo-ueism in 
his politics. The turncoats, flunkeys, time-servers, oflice-seek- 
ers, and political hypocrites of every party, fear him as the 
enemies of Greece did the Athenian orator, but they cannot 
despise him, they cannot ostracise him, they cannot make him 
false to his convictions. Hence he is the man the j^eoplo 
delight to honor, though he seeks no popular applause. He 
is now in the prime of manhood, and the star of his fame is 
in the ascendant. In person, he is tall, well-proportioned, 
with a low but broad forehead, light magnetic eyes, and a 
luxuriant growth of dark brown hair. He has a long, uneven 
face, which is marked with the manly traits for which he is 
distinguished. His smile is very sunny and infectious, and his 
greeting very cordial ; he walks with firmness, and swings his 
arms (especially when upon the platform) as though he designed 
to knock down the obstacles in his way ; has a full, rich bass 
voice, which becomes very seductive as he proceeds in his 
speech, enlisting irresistibly the attention, and appealing 
warmly to the feelings. When he is intensely excited, th« 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. ±1": 



tones of hia voice move one like the blast of a bugle. As av 
orator, he has but few superiors, 

Mr. Sumner would excel as a diplomatist, for he has that 
peculiar ingenuity and intuitive skill which would enable him 
to disentangle the complicated questions that would come 
before him for arbitrament. When his party desire to move 
the political world, they are apt to shift it upon his Atlantean 
shoulders. Is there a great gulf between Dives the demagogue, 
and Lazarus of Iiis own league? — He will bridge over the 
chasm, if it can be done, and unite them in mutual friendship, 
without sacrificing truth and right on the altar of compromise. 
But some say Mr, Sumner is not sufficiently ^raciica^. He 
hopes to see the dawn of a golden future, and mistakes the 
scintilhitinor Hnrhts of the Northern skies for the sunrise of the 
millennial day. Although he is ambitious in worthy causes, 
he is wise, and patiently bides his time, without egotistically 
thrusting himself before the people ; is fond of fame, but when 
he is crowned with honors, his modesty is equal to his grati- 
tude. Has a Faneuil-Hall-full of affectionate admirers in his 
own city, and multitudes of them elsewhere. 

As might be expected from his heart-sympathies, Mr. Sum- 
ner early connected himself with the Free Soil party ; indeed, 
was one of its originators, — and without question is one of the 
ablest men in it — and politicians of all shades of opinion will 
agree that that party embodies a large share of intellectual, 
moral, and personal strength. Recent events in the political 
aflfairs of Massachusetts have placed Mr. Sumner conspicuously 
before the communiW as a candidate for the United States 



278 



CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



Senate. If he should receive the honor of that post, he would 
be more of a statesman tliaa a partisan, more of a sound, humane 
political economist than the mouth-piece of a faction — and 1 
need not say, would do honor to the State he represents. His 
benevolence of character never will allow him to be a party 
demagogue, but for all that gives dignity to manhood or exalts 
true political science, he has every requisite.* 

The following extracts are fi-om a speech delivered in Faneuil 
Hall, previous to his election to a seat in the Senate of the 
United States. This speech is not so highly polished nor so 
argumentative as some of his addresses, but it is the most 
graphic and eloquent he has uttered. 

"The soul sickens in the contemplation of this legalized 
outrage. In the dreary annals of the past, there are many 
acts of shame — there are ordinances of monarchs, and laws, 
which have become a by-word and a hissing to the nations. 
But, when we consider the country and the age, I ask fear- 
lessly, What act of shame, what ordinance of monarch, what 
law can compare in atrocity with this enactment of an Ameri- 
can Congress ? [' None.'] I do not forget Appius Claudius, 
the tyrant Decemvir of ancient Rome, condemning Virginia 
as a slave ; nor Louis XIV., of France, letting slip the dogs 
of religious persecution by the revocation of the edict of 
Nantes ; nor Charles I., of England, arousing the patriot-rage 
of Ilampden by the extortion of Ship-money ; nor the British 

* Since the above was written, Mr. Summer has been elected to the United 
States Senate 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 279 

Parliament, provoking, in our own country, spirits kindred tc 
Hampden, by the tyranny of the Stamp Act and the Tea Tax. 
I would not exaggerate ; I wish to keep within bounds ; but j 
think no person can doubt that the condemnation now affixed 
to all these transactions, and to their authors, must be the lot 
hereafter of the Fugitive Slave Bill, and of every one, according 
to the measure of his influence, who gave it his support. [Three 
cheers were here given.] Into the immortal catalogue of 
national crimes this has now passed, drawing after it, by an 
inexorable necessity, its authors also, and chiefly him, who, as 
President of the United States, set his name to the Bill, and 
breathed into it that final breath without which it would have 
no life. [Sensation.] Other Presidents may be forgotten ; 
but the name signed to the Fugitive Slave Bill can never be 
forgotten. [' Never !'] There are depths of infamy, as there 
are heights of fame. [Applause.] I regret to say what I 
must ; but truth compels me. Better for him had he never 
been born I [Renewed applause.] Better far for his memory, 
and for the good name of his children, had he never been 
President ! [Repeated cheers.] 

"Surely the love of Freedom cannot have so far cooled 
among us, the descendants of those who opposed the Stamp 
Act, that we are insensible to the Fugitive Slave Bill. Tho 
unconquerable rage of the people, in those other days, com- 
pelled the Stamp-distributors and inspectors to renounce their 
offices, and held up to detestation all who dared to speak in 
favor of the Stamps. And shall we be more tolerant of those 
who volunteer in favor of this Bill? ['No! no!'] --mora 



280 CRAYON SKETCHES, ANrt 

tolerant of the Slave-hunter, who, under its safeguard, pursues 
his prey upon our soil ? [' No ! no !'] The Stamp Act could 
not be executed here ? Can the Fugitive Slave Bill i 
['Never!'] 

" And here, sir, let me say, that it becomes me to speak 
with peculiar caution. It happens to me to sustain an impor- 
tant relation to this Bill. Early in professional life I was 
designated by the late Mr. Justice Story one of the Com- 
missioners of the Courts of the United States, and though I 
have not very often exercised the functions of this post, yel 
my name is still upon the list. As such I am one of those 
before whom, under the recent Act of Congress, the panting 
fugitive may be brought for the decision of the question 
whether he is a freeman or slave. But, while it becomes me 
to speak with caution, I shall not hesitate to speak with plain- 
ness. I cannot forget that I am a man, although I am a 
Commissioner. [Enthusiastic cheers.] 

" Did the same spirit which inspired our fathers, inspire the 
community now, the marshals, and every magistrate who 
regarded this law as having any constitutional obligation, 
would resign rather than presume to execute it. This, how- 
ever, is too much to expect from all at present. But I will 
not judge them. To their own consciences I leave them. 
Surely, no person of humane feelings, and with any true sense 
of justice — living in a land ' where bells have tolled to 
church ' — whatever may be the apology of public station, 
could fail to recoil from such service. For myself, let me say 
that I can imagine no office, no salary, no consideration, 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 281 

which T would not gladly forego, rather than become in any 
way an agent in enslaving my brother man. [Sensation.] 
Where for me would be comfort and solace, after such a 
work ? In dreams and in waking hours, in solitude and in 
the street, in the meditations of the closet, and in the aflairs 
of men, wherever I turned, there my victim would stare me in 
the face ; from the distant rice-fields and cotton-plantations of 
the South, his cries beneath the vindictive lash, his moans, at 
the thought of liberty once his, now, alas ! ravished from him, 
would 2^ursue me, telling the tale of his fearful doom, and 
sounding in my ears, ' Thou art the man 1' [Rapturous 
applause.] 

" Sir, I will not dishonor this home of the Pilgrims, and of 
the Revolution, by admitting — nay, / cannot believe — that 
this Bill will he executed here. [' Never !'] Individuals 
among us, as elsewhere, may forget humanity in a fancied 
loyality to law ; but the public conscience will not allow a 
man, who has trodden our streets as a freeman, to be dragged 
away as a slave. [Applause.] By his escape from bondage, 
he has shown that true manhood, which must grapple to him 
every honest heart. He may be ignorant, and rude, as he is 
poor, but he is of a true nobility. The Fugitive Slaves of 
the United States are among the heroes of our age. In sacri- 
ficing them to this foul enactment of Congress, we should 
violate every sentiment of hospitality, every whispering of the 
heart, every dictate of religion. 

" There are many who will never shrink at any cost, and 
notwithstanding all the atrocious penalties of this Bill, from 



282 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

efforts to save a wandering fellow-man from bondage ; the} 
will offer him the shelter of their houses, and, if need be, will 
protect his liberty by force. But, let me be understood, 1 
counsel no violence. There is another power — stronger than 
any individual arm — which I invoke ; I mean that invincible 
Public Opinion, inspired by love of God and man, which, 
without violence or noise, gently as the operations of nature, 
makes and unmakes laws. Let this opinion be felt in its 
Christian might, and the Fugitive Slave Bill will become 
everywhere upon our soil, a dead letter. No lawyer will aid 
it by counsel ; no citizen will become its agent ; it will die of 
inanition — like a spider beneath an exhausted receiver. ! 
it were well the tidings should spread throughout the land, 
that here, in Massachusetts, this accursed Bill has found no 
servants. [Cheers.] ' Sire, I have found in Bayonne honest 
citizens and brave soldiers only; but not one executioner,^ was 
the reply of the governor of that place to the royal mandate 
of Charles IX., of France, ordering the Massacre of St. Bar- 
tholomew. [Sensation.] 

"But it rests with you, my fellow-citizens, by your words 
and your example, by your calm determinations and your 
devoted lives, to do this work. From a humane, just, and 
religious people, shall spring a Public Opinion, to keep per- 
petual guard over the liberties of all within our borders. Nay, 
more, like the flaming sword of the cherubim at the gates of 
Paradise, turning on every side, it shall prevent any Slave- 
Hunter from ever setting foot in this Commonwealth! 
[Cheers redoubled.] Elsewhere, he may pursue his humac 



> 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 283 

prey ; he may empioy xiis congenial bloodliounds, and exult 
in his successful game. But into Massachusetts he must 
not come ! [Immense enthusiasm.] And yet again I say, 
I counsel no violence. I would not toucli his person. Not 
with wliips and thongs would I scourge him from the 
land. Tlie contempt, the indignation, the abhorrence of the 
community, shall be our weapons of ofience. Wherever he 
moves, he shall find no house to receive' him — no table 
spread to nourish him — no welcome to cheer him. The 
dismal lot of the Roman exile shall be his. He shall be a 
wanderer, without roof^ fire, or water. [Sensation.] Men 
shall point at him in the streets, and on the highways : 

" ' Sleep shall neither night nor day 

Hang upon his pent-house lid ; 

He shall live a man forbid. 
Weary seven nights, nine times nine, 
Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine.* 

The villages, towns and cities shall refuse to receive the mon- 
ster ; they shall vomit him forth, never again to disturb 
the repose of our community." [Repeated rounds of applause.] 



284 CRAVON SivKTCHES, AND 



OGDEN HOFFMAN. 

In this country newspaper notoriety is so easily obtained, 
pi'inted compliments by the column-full being sold for a dol- 
lar or a dinner, it is not considered a difficult task to become 
immortal, nor very desirable to enter the prize list with such 
ambitious competitors for the laurel of fame. A quack who 
knows not the difference between the veins and the vertebrae, 
and a pettifogger who never read a page of law, can buy repu- 
tation for a shilling a line, go to bed an obscure ignoramus, 
and find himseW famous in the morning. Now this state of 
society is so sickening to men of sterling talent and trua 
genius, that few who have the ring of true metal in them 
care to tumble in such a promiscuous scramble for a great 
name. 

But there are men, who, like the oak king of the forest, stand 
firmly anchored in the soil, while saplings strew the vale or 
lean upon its branches, and look through its buds into the 
future, when the forests folded in its acorn cups shall be the 
pride and glory of the hills and plains. 

Ogden Hoffman is such a man, and his name is as familiar 
in the Great Metropolis and the Empire State as household 
words. 

He comes of good stock too, learned in the law. His 
father, Josiah Ogden Hoffman, being the contemporary of 




in^ivedljy J.C Bultre- 




'y^ ,^p 



OFP-HANly TAKINGS. 285 

Thomas Addis Emmet, Judge Story, "Williams, and others 
of that calibre, when to maintain one's position in the forensic- 
arena was no child's play. And he occupied the bench too 
at a time when it was the reward of deep study and great 
ability, not as now, often obtained as the result of successful 
political chicanery. 

His brother, Charles Fenno Hoffman, has occupied in the 
literary world, both as a brilliant poet (he has written some 
of the sweetest things in our language), and as a novelist, a 
position of enviable notoriety. But to return to Ogden, the 
subject of our present sketch. Who, among the inhabitants of 
New York, does not recollect the sensation that occurred in 
the minds of the people in the good old days of Andrew 
Jackson and old-fashioned democracy, when the news was 
spread abroad that Ogden Holfman and Dudley Selden, mem- 
bers of Congress from this city, had refused " to go the whole 
hog," but had come out flat-footed, uncompromising whigs I 
Deep was the chagrin of the b'hoys, and as great the transport 
of their opponents. And to this day, wherever there is a 
whig gathering, and the masses are to be stirred up with soul- 
breathing eloquence, there will be heard the trumpet voice of 
Hoffman, urging them to do their duty as men, and to vote 
as becomes freemen. 

The great power of Hoffman is before a jury. There is a 
sweetness, a pleasantness about his eloquence that is very 
difficult to withstand, and when excited his powerful voice 
will ring like a clarion, and at one moment he will draw tears 
fjom your eyes for the sorrows of his client, and at another 



286 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

convulse you with indignation for the wrongs he has suffered. 
The famous Richard P. Robinson, in the Helen Jewett case, 
no doubt owed his acquittal to his matchless eloquence. 

Mr. Hoffman we should judge to be about fifty years of 
age, of medium height, rather inclining to be stout. He has 
a noble forehead and finely-formed head, from which (from 
too much mental application probably), the hair is worn 
off on the back part. He has fine, expressive eyes, and a 
countenance generally denoting kindness and benevolence of 
heart. He is a gentleman in every sense of the word, urbane 
in his manners, and polite in his address, and has drank 
deep at the fountains of both law and general literature. No 
man in this part of the country is more deservedly popular. 
He now holds the responsible office of Attorney-General of 
the State of New York. 

It is truly refreshing to find a man whose solid learning, 
sound sense, and professional ability have been appreciated, 
while so many shams and pettifoggers are angling in every 
petty quarrel or political puddle for the fish which has the 
tribute money. 



E. L SNOW. 

The Hon. E. L. Snow, who has won an enduring reputa- 
tion as a consistent and conscientious temperance man, was 
born in Boston, in the State of Massachusetts, where he was 
educated and honored with various positions of public trust. 
He represented one of the wealthiest wards in the Puritan 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 287 

city in the Common Council, and held high office in the Fira 
Department. 

In 1830, he left Boston and commenced business in the city 
of New York. Ten years afterwards, when the Washingtoniana 
began that reform which revolutionized the drinking usages of 
society, he attended their meetings, became convinced of the 
illegitimacy and wickedness of tlie rum-traffic, in which he 
was engaged— affixed his signature to the pledge, and forth- 
with discontinued the disreputable business. 

From that time he has been a constant and efficient advo 
cate and promoter of Temperance. In 1842, he assumed the 
editorial management and proprietorship of the New York 
Organ, one <Jf the ablest journals devoted to the temperance 
enterprise. On the 29th of September, 1842, he, with fifteen 
others, instituted the order of the Sons of Temperance, and he 
had the distinguished honor of being chosen the first Worthy 
Associate of that order. In 1846, as a compliment to him for 
his invaluable services in spreading the principle of the Sons 
of Temperance, his friends instituted the order of the " Snow 
Social Union " — a society composed of ladies and gentlemen 

Colonel Snow was unanimously chosen commander of the 
first temperance military company known in the United States 
or the world — " The New York Temperance Guards," a noble 
body of men, numbering sixty guns. For several years this gen- 
tleman was connected with the New York police establish- 
ment, and in 1844 he was appointed Mayor's Marshal by 
the Hon. James Harper, and soon after received from the 
Common Council the appointment of Clerk of Police. He 



288 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

opened a pledge-book at his desk, and during the four years 
of his clerkship he obtained upwards of ten thousand name? 
to the total abstinence pledge. In November, 1851, he wan 
nominated for the Assembly, and after a severe contest, was 
elected by a majority of three votes. His election was con- 
tested before the Board of Canvassers, and declared duly 
elected. In January he took his seat in the Legislature. 
But his opponent followed him to Albany, and a committee 
from the Assembly heard the evidence and counsel from both 
sides, and reported that he was entitled to his seat. After- 
ward, however, at five o'clock in the morning, when the 
House had been in session all night, and some of his friends 
were absent, and many of his enemies were intoxicated, or 
bribed, or both, his seat was declared vacant. But he still 
continues an active and able expounder of our principles — 
being an able debater and a forcible writer. He is six feet 
three inches in height, stoutly built, handsomely framed, and 
erect as a liberty-pole. He has the voice of a Stentor, and 
can fill the ears of twenty thousand hearers. 
Success to him, and honor to his cause. 



THOMAS FRANCIS MEAGHER. 

Thomas Francis Meagher, the eloquent Irish Nationalist, 
is a native of Waterford. He was born August 3d, 1823. 
His father, the present representative of that borough, in the 
British Senate, was a merchant, extensively engaged in the 
Newfoundland trade, from which he realized a fine fortune. 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 289 

A.t the age of nine, the hero of this sketch was sent to the 
Jesuit College of Clongowes Wood, in the county of Kildare, 
where he remained six years, when ie was removed to the 
celebrated College Stonyhurst, near Preston, in Lancashire, 
England, where, among other distinguished men, Richard 
Lalor Sheil was educated. Although, Meagher was more 
devoted to pleasure than study, he bore away the bell from 
all competitors, for the prizes for rhetoric and English com 
position. 

In 1843, he left Stonyhurst, and soon afterwards attended 
the great National Meeting, under the auspices of O'Connell, 
which took place at Kilkenny, and here the youthful orator 
made his first appearance, iilthough not yet twenty years of 
age. From that day his heart and soul were dedicated and 
devoted to the welfare of Ireland. 

In 1848, the "Confederation" adopted an address to the 

French, on their achievement of a republic, and Meagher was 

one of the delegates selected to present it to the Provisional 

Government in Paris. On his return, he presented an Irish 

tricolor to the citizens of Dublin. " From Paris," said he, 

" I trust that beneath its folds, the hand of the Irish Catholic, 

and the Irish Protestant, may be clasped in generous and 

heroic brotherhood. Should this flag: be destined to fan the 

flames of war, let England behold once more, upon that white 

centre " the red hand " that struck her down from the hills of 

Ulster ; and I pray that heaven may bless the vengeance it 

is sure to kindle." 

On the 21st of March, Meagher was arrested on a charge 

13 



290 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

of sedition, as also were Mitchel and O'Brien ; bail was a > 
cepted for their appearance at the Court of Queen's Bench. 
The passage of the Treason Felony Act, their speaking and 
organizing being peremptorily forbidden, the opposition of the 
priesthood, with a combination of other causes, precluded the 
possibility of "their rising by harvest time." Mitchel was 
arrested a second time, and a reward of £500 offered for the 
"Young Rebel" (Meagher). After a series of adventures he 
was finally captured near Rathgannon, on the road between 
Clonoulty and Holy Cross ; this was in the month of August. 
He was tried in October, and the sentence of death pro- 
nounced against him. The sentence was subsequently com- 
muted to banishment for life, and on the 9th of July, 1849, 
he was transported to Van Diemen's Land, from which place 
he escaped in 1852. 

In December, 1852, "The Speeches of Thomas Francis 
Meagher " on the Legislative Independence of Ireland, were 
collected, and published by Redfield, New York, with elabo- 
rate notes on the state of Ireland, and the cotemporary his- 
tory of the European revolutions, by his friend, Mr. John 
Savao-e. It at once rose in public favor, and is, we believe, 
at present in the fifth edition. 

A critic in a southern journal speaking of the subject of 
our sketch, says : " As an orator, Meagher stands original and 
alone. He is no copy of a copy, no second-hand Cicero or 
diminutive Demosthenes ; he can neither imitate nor be imi- 
tated ; he is a master who has had no model, and no follower. 
His fio-ure ^id features are not more his own than his elo- 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 291 

quence ; and his words are unaffectedly natural offs/rinjjs oi 
his soul, as his frowns or smiles. Out of the great mine of 
his heart does he dig his huge thoughts, reined all by threads 
of gold, which sparkle in the sun." This is great praise ; 
but the power capable of raising the indignation and chas 
tisement of the politic British Government must certainly be 
of no medium or mediocre character. 

The modesty of Mr. Meagher is only surpassed by his bril- 
liant talents. When before an audience, he has not only the 
" poet's vision and the faculty divine," but a river-like flow of . 
graceful and beautiful language. His lectures and speeches, 
to which reference has already been made, abound in appro- 
priate imagery, striking illustration, classic allusion, and poeti- 
cal expression. His voice is rich and full, and gives unmis- 
takable evidence that a man stands behind it. In manner 
he is polite, pleasant and frank, but dignified. In person he is 
rather robust, with a florid complexion, blue eyes, and dark 
brown hair. Although a Catholic, it is evident he is no favo- 
rite with the Jesuit priesthood — indeed, until quite recently they 
have treated him Avith indignity, having pelted him with 
paragraphs in the newspapers, and bespattered him with hints 
from the pulpit. At the present writing he is in California, 
where he is making a great sensation among the people in the 
golden land. He is one of the editors of the Citizen, and it 
is to be hoped he does not sympathise with his co-laborer on 
the subject of slavery. He is a great favorite with the masses 
everywhere, and almost idolized by his own countrymen. 
Crowded houses greet him in city and country, and handsome 
compensation rewards his labors. 



292 CRAYON SKETCHES. ANO 



WENDELL PHILLIPS. 

Wendell Phillips is the Patrick Henry of New-England 
If he has less natural eloquence, less thrilling pathos, than th« 
orator of the Revolution, he has more polish and as much 
power of origination. He is a ripe scholar, a lawyer of no 
ordinary calibre, a magazine writer of considerable note, and 
a reformer of the most radical school. He is the pet speaker 
of the East. He has great power of perception, sincere 
sympathy for the oppressed, and wonderfid command over 
the stores of varied knowledge treasured up in his retentivo 
memory. He has the " gifts that universities cannot bestow," 
the current coin that cannot be counterfeited "the prophet's 
vision," the poet's fancy, the light of genius. He is at home 
on the mountain-top, and when he soars skyward he is not 
lost among the clouds ; has all the sagacity of the man of 
business united with the enthusiasm of the Utopian, and seems 
to be equally related to Maia the Eloquent, and Jupiter the 
Thunderer. He admires the eternal, the infinite, the heaven- 
like, the God-approximating in the nature of man, whatever 
may be the color of the envelope that contains these attri- 
butes. 

Mr. Phillips's speeches have in them the breath of life — 
hence they live long to swell the bosom and make the heart 



/ 



OFF-HAXD TAKINGS. 21).') 

throb. " He does not go to the lamp of the old schools to 
light his torch, but dips it into the sun, which accounts for its 
gorgeous effulgence." He is something of a metaphysician, 
but is too much absorbed in the work of revolutionizing 
public sentiment, to devote his attention to subtle research and 
profound analysis. He makes but little preparation, and 
always speaks extemporaneously ; consequently some of his 
addresses are like a beautiful damsel in deshabille ; then his 
quotations are ringlets rolled up in papers, and the main part 
of the lecture like a loose gown, which now and then reveals 
a neck of pearl and a voluptuous bust of snowy whiteness 
and beautiful proportions. He is often brilliant, never tedious. 
Sometimes his scholarship is seen conspicuously, but it is 
never pompously displayed. 

It is a rich treat to hear Wendell Phillips speak to a large 
and appreciative audience. Let the reader fancy he is at a 
mass meeting in some forest temple. The sun shines as 
though delighted with the gathering ; the shy birds perch in 
silence on the neighboring trees, as though they were aston- 
ished at the proceedings; a song makes the welkin ring. 
The chairman announces the name of a favorite speaker. A 
genteel man steps gracefully upon the platform. He is 
neatly, not foppishly, dressed. A pleasant smile illuminates 
his noble face. He leaps, at a single bound, into the middle 
of the subject. He reasons, and his logic is on fire ; he des- 
cribes, and the subject is daguerreotyped on the retina of 
memory ; he quotes from some classic author, and the ex- 
cerpt is like an apple of gold in a picture of silver ; he tells 



294 



a story, and the impressioQ it gives is indelible ; he mates an 
appeal, and tears flow freely; he declaims, and the people are 
intensely excited ; he soars, and his lips are touched with a 
live coal from the altar of inspiration. Mr. Phillips believes in 
a " higher law," so he appeals to the sense of the everlasting 
in man. " He plays the Titanic game of rocks, and not a 
game of tennis-balls," and yet he " floods the heart with 
singular and thrilling pleasure." " He is the primed mouth- 
piece of an eloquent discharge, who presents, applies the 
linstock, and fires off" ;" and the conservatives, who stand with 
their fingers in their ears, are startled by the report. Is there 
a mob ? his words are like oil on the troubled billows of the 
chafed sea ; he rebukes the winds of strife and the waves of 
faction, and there is a great calm. The serene face of his 
bosom-friend, the leader of the league, is radiant with smiles ; 
the severe front of a turncoat or a tyrant present, begins to 
relax ; the doughface is ashamed of himself, and determines 
that hereafter he will be " a doer and not dough ;" the stiff"- 
limbed finds a hinge in his joints, and his supple knees bow 
in homage to the speaker. 

But I must find some fault, or I shall be deemed a 
flatterer. Let me see — what shall I say ? " Oh, he is an 
impracticable radical ; he goes for the dissolution of the 
Union, the dismemberment of the church, the destruction of 
the political parties." In this he is partly right and partly 
wrong. The Christian should do for Christ's sake what the 
worldling does for the sake of humanity, then there will be no 
necessity for such a reproof. The body politic should sever 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 295 

the leprous limb of slavery, and then America would not limp 
so as to become the laughing-stock and a by-word of tha 
nations of the earth. The political parties at the North aro 
leavened with anti-slavery doctrines, and it is hoped they will 
soon rise to the level of that benevolence which will render 
such rebukes unnecessary. I declare it is difficult for me to 
find any fault in him. Reader, you may be Herod, but I 
cannot be Pilate, and consent to his crucifixion. T must con- 
fess that I love the man, although I cannot endorse all his 
creed. It is a pity that he limits his usefulness by his fierce 
warfare against men and measures that are too long or too 
short for his iron bedstead. 

Mr. Phillips is a man of fortune, and one of the distinguished 
few who contribute to support the enterprise in which he 
feels an interest as much as he expends in sustaining himself 
and family. Physically he is a noble specimen of a man. His 
head is sparingly covered with reddish hair — 

" The golden treasure nature showers down 
I^On those foredoomed to wear Fame's golden crown." 

A phrenologist would pronounce his head worth more than 
the South would be willing or able to give for it. He haa 
large ideality and sublimity, hence he soars ; large comparison 
and' causality, so he reasons by analogy ; large hope and 
benevolence, and the genial sunshine of good-nature irradi- 
ates his countenance ; large firmness and adhesiveness, and he 
abides by his friends through evil and through good report. 
His face is pleasant, and indicates exquisite taste, pure gene- 



296 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

rosity, and Roman firmness. He is now in the full vigor of 
manhood, and ever ready at a moment's warning to battle 
for what he deems the riofht. Woe be unto the man who 
enters the arena with him, for he wields a two-edged sword 
of Damascus steel. Many strong men have been slain by 
him ; yea, many mighty men have fallen before him. Had 
he united with either of the great political pai'ties, he would 
have been chosen as a champion, for he is brilliant as Choate, 
without his bedlamitish idiosyncrasies ; clear as Clay, without 
his accommodating, compromising disposition ; learned as 
Winthrop, without his booMshness and drawing-room man- 
nerism ; genial as Cass, without his dulness ; fiery as Benton, 
without his unapproachable self-suflSciency, He would enter- 
tain a promiscuous audience better than either of the above- 
named men. He is not so logical as Webster ; not so 
luminous as the ever-consistent Calhoun ; not so learned as 
the second Adams : not so thrillinof as Kentuckv's favorite ; 
and yet he is a more instructive and a more interesting speakei 
than either of those distinguished men ever were, even in 
their jjalmiest days. 

Wendell Phillips is universally esteemed and beloved 
Even those who hate his creed, and dread his power, admire 
his disinterested kindness and irresistible eloquence. 

I regret that I have room for only the following extracts, 
from the last annual report of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery 
Society. 

" Neither would I be understood as denying that we us« 
denunciation, and ridicule, and every other weapon that the 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 297 

human mind knows. We must plead guilty, if there be guilt 
in not knowing how to separate the sin from the sinner. 
With all the fondness for abstractions attributed to us, we are 
not yet capable of that. We are fighting a momentous battle 
at desperate odds — one against a thousand. Every weapoi 
that ability or ignorance, wit, wealth, prejudice or fashion can 
command, is pointed against us. The guns are shotted to 
their lips. The arrows are poisoned. Fighting against such 
an array, we cannot afford to confine ourselves to any one 
weapon. The cause is not ours, so that we might, rightfully, 
postpone or put in peril the victory by moderating our 
demands, stifling our convictions, or filing down our rebukes 
to gratify the sickly taste of our own, or to spare the delicat& 
nerves of our neighbor. Our clients are three millions of 
slaves, standing dumb suppliants at the threshold of the Chris- 
tian Avorld. They have no voice but ours to utter their 
complaints, or to demand justice. The press, the pulpit, the 
wealth, the literature, the prejudices, the political arrange- 
ments, the present self-interest of the country, are all against 
us. God has given us no weapon but the truth, faithfully 
uttered, and addressed with the old prophet's directness, to 
the conscience of the individual sinner. The elements which 
control public opinion and mould the masses are against us. 
We can but pick off here and there a man from the 
triumphant majority. We have facts for those who think-— 
arguments for those who reason ; but he who cannot be 
reasoned out of his prejudices, must be laughed out of them ; 
he who cannot be argued out of his selfishness, must b« 

13* 



298 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

shamed out of it by the mirror of liis hateful self held up 
relentlessly before his eyes. We live in a land where every 
man makes broad his phylactery, inscribing thereon, 'All 
men are created equal' — 'God hath made of one blood all 
nations of men.' It seems to us that in such a land there 
must be, on this question of slavery, sluggards to be awakened 
as well as doubters to be convinced. Many more, we verily 
believe, of the first, than of the last. There are far more dead 
hearts to be quickened, than confused intellects to be cleared 
up — more dumb dogs to be made to speak, than doubting 
consciences to be enlightened." (Loud cheers.) 

* * * .* * * 

" All this I am not only ready to allow, but I should be 
ashamed to think of the slave, or look into the face of my 
fellow-man, if it were otherwise. It is the only thing that 
justifies us to our own consciences, and makes us able to say 
we have done, or at least tried to do, our duty. 

" So far, however you distrust my philosophy, you will not 
doubt my statements. That we have denounced and rebuked 
with unsparing fidelity will not be denied. Have we not also 
addi-essed ourselves to that other duty, of arguing our ques- 
tion thoroughly — of using due discretion and fiiir sagacity in 
endeavoring to promote our cause ? Yes, we have. Every 
statement we have made has been doubted. Every principle 
we have laid down has been denied by overwhelming majori- 
ties against us. No one step has ever been gained but by the 
most laborious research and the most exhausting argument. 
And no question has ever, since Revolutionary days, been so 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 293 

thoroughly investigated or argued here, as that of slavery 
Of that research and that argument, of the whole of it, the old- 
fashioned, fanatical, crazy, Garrisonian Anti-Slavery move- 
ment has been the author. From this band of men has pro- 
ceeded every important argument or idea that has been 
broached on the Anti-Slavery question from 1830 to the pre- 
sent time. (Cheers.) I am well aware of the extent of the 
claim I make. I recognise, as fully as any one can, the abi- 
lity of the new laborers — the eloquence and genius with which 
they have recommended this cause to the nation, and flashed 
conviction home on the conscience of the community. 
* * * * * * 

"At present, our leading men, strong in the supjwrt of largo 
majorities, and counting safely on the prejudices of the com- 
munity, can aftbrd to despise us. They know they can over- 
awe or cajole the present ; their only fear is the judgment of 
the future. Strange fear, perhaps, considering how short and 
local their fame ! But however little, it is their all. Our only 
hold upon them is the thought of that bar of posterity, before 
which we are all to stand. Thank God, there is the elder 
brother of the Saxon race across the water — there is the army 
of honest men to come ! Before that jury we summon you. 
We are weak here — out-talked, out-voted. You load our 
names with infamy, and shout us down. But our words bide 
their time. We warn the living that we have terrible memo- 
ries, and that their sins are never to be forgotten. We will 
gibbet the name of every apostate so black and high that hia 
children's children shall blush to bear it. Yet we bear no 



300 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

malice — clierisli no resentment. We thank God that the leva 
of fame, ' that last infirmity of noble minds,' is shared by the 
ignoble. In our necessity, we seize this weapon in the slave's 
behalf, and teach caution to the living by meting out relent; 
less justice to the dead. How strange the change death pro- 
duces in the way a man is talked about here ! While leading 
men live, they avoid as much as possible all mention of slavery, 
from fear of being thought abolitionists. The moment they 
are dead, their friends rake up every word they ever contrived 
to whisper in a corner for liberty, and parade it before the 
world ; growing angiy, all the while, with us, because wq 
insist on explaining these chance expressions by the tenor of 
a long and base life. While drunk with the temptations of 
the present hour, men are willing to bow to any Moloch. 
When their friends bury them, they feel what bitter mockery, 
fifty years hence, any epitaph will be, if it cannot record of 
one living in this era, some service rendered to the slave ! 
These, Mr. Chairman, are the reasons why we take care thai 
'the memory of the wicked shall rot."* 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 301 



ELIHU BURRITT. 

" Our country is the world ; our countrymen are all mankind." — Asom. 

A SHORT time ago the friends of Peace called a meeting 
at the Park street Church, for the purpose of appointing 
delegates to attend the World's Peace Convention, on the 
banks of the Maine. In consequence of the inclemency of 
the weather, and the unbusiness-like manner in which he 
meeting was advertised, there were hut few persons present ; 
but the distinguished gentlemen who were called upon to 
address that audience might have consoled themselves with 
the reflection that what their assembly lacked in number it 
made up in talent, learning, influence, and moral worth. 

The chief object of attraction, at this meeting, was Elihu 
Burritt, the " learned blacksmith." He sat on the first seat 
opposite the pulpit, with his back toward the audience, his 
head resting on his hand, and his eyes closed most of the 
time, during the delivery of the speeches. Thomas Drew, Jr., 
immortalized as Burritt's " blower and striker " at the forcre 
and anvil of reform, was busy with pencil and paper in one of 
the side pews. The hearers waited peaceably but impatiently 
for Mr. Burritt to take the rostrum, and when it was 
announced that he would speak, every countenance becama 



302 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

radiaut with joyful anticipation. Mr. Burritt arose in a quiet, 
unpretending manner, and modestly responded to the 
.nvitation to speak. He stood on the top stair of the pulpit, 
and at first seemed to shrink back bashfully from the gaze of 
the upturned faces before hiin. Although he is no coward, I 
have no doubt his heart beat as though it would batter a 
breach through its tenement when he first unsealed his lips 
in the presence of that assembly. In fact, the contour of his 
face, and the tones of his voice, are the tell-tales which pub- 
lished his lack of self-conceit. 

Mr. Burritt is now in the meridian of his manhood, but his 
premature baldness is his apology for wearing a wig. He has 
a towering forehead, but, owing to the large development of 
the perceptive faculties, it appears to retreat. I think his eyes 
are blue, when they do not blaze. His face indicates 
perseverance that will not falter, and integrity that will not 
disappoint. He speaks slowly, distinctly, and forcibly, with- 
out ever uttering a foolish thing. He has a peculiarity of 
tone which is unreportable, but which tells with thrilling 
effect on the hearts of his hearers, when he enters earnestly 
into the subject he discusses. All who have heard him must 
acknowledge that his matter is as full of thought as an egg is 
of meat. He employs facts and statistics in his speeches and 
editorials, but they have the varied beauty of the rainbow, 
and the golden glow of sunlight, when viewed through the 
prism of his rich imagination. 

The following extract from the, London edition of the little 
volume entitled " Sparks from the Anvil,^'' will give tho 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 303 



reader an idea of Mr, Burritt's style of writing. In ar 
article on temperance, he alludes to the history of a distin- 
guished statesman who had been snatched as a brand from 
the liquid burning: — "And he was found, with all the 
resuscitated vigor of his talents, exhuming^ as it were, his 
fellow beings, who, like him, had been buried before thej 
were dead. Massachusetts welcomed him back to her 
embrace with emotions of maternal joy, and invited the 
returning pleiad to resume his rank among the stars of her 
crown. The doors of her halls and churches were thrown 
open to the newly-returning prodigal, and many were touched 
to life and salvation, at the burning eloquence which fell from 
his lips. Sister states heard of this new Luther in temper- 
ance, and he obeyed thoir call. He stood up in their cities 
like Paul in the midst of Mars Hill, and, with an eloquence 
approaching inspiration, set forth the strange doctrine of 
total abstinence. That man, unfortunately, was led astray 
by fiends in human form, but a band of Washingtonians 
persuaded him to sign the pledge once more, and this time it 
was an unviolated policy of insurance against the fires of 
destruction." He concluded that graphic sketch in the follow- 
ing words : — " That man is again a giant, and he is abroad ; 
look out for him ! Like Samson, he is feeling for the pillars, 
of the temple of Bacchus, and he will ere long revenge the 
loss of his locks by a mighty overthrow of that doomed 
edifice." 

It aftbrds the writer no small degree of pleasure to lift up 
the curtain which hangs between the past and the present, 



304 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

and look back to the time when the now eminent champion 
of peace first put on his paper cap and leather apron, and 
made the forgfe blaze and the hammer rino-. He did not 
dream, then, that he one day would "beat swords into 
ploughshares, and spears into pruning-hooks." His friends 
did not at that time give him credit for any striking mani- 
festations of genius. To use his own words, he was a 
" plodding, patient, persevering " lad, gathering by " the 
process of accretion, which builds the ant-heap, particle by 
particle, thought by thought, fact by fact." In this way he 
worked and studied, night by night, for years, with " blistered 
hands and brightening hope," at lessons which have made 
him shine a star of the first magnitude in the firmament of 
fame. 

In the summer of 1838, Governor Everett, of Massachu- 
setts, in an address to an association of mechanics in Boston, 
took occasion to mention that a blacksmith of that State had, 
by his unaided industry, made himself acquainted with fifty 
languages! Prior to this announcement, Mr. Burritt had 
lived in obscurity, and the fame of his acquirements did not 
extend beyond the smoke of his work-shop. When Mr. 
Nelson called on Mr. B. at Worcester, he found him at his 
anvil. When told what the Governor had reported respecting 
him, he modestly replied that the Governor had done him 
more than justice. It was true, he said, that he could read 
about fifty languages, but he had not studied them all 
critically. Yankee curiosity had induced him to look at the 
Latin Grammar ; he became int»erested in it, and persevered^ 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. .TQa 

and, finally, acquired a thorougli knowledge of that language, 
He then studied the Greek with equal care. An acquaintance 
with these languages had enabled him to read, with equal 
facility, the Italian, the French, the Spanish, and the Portu- 
guese. The Russian, to which he was then devoting his odd 
moments, he said, w^as the most difficult of any he had 
undertaken. He went to Worcester to secure the advantao^es 
of an antiquarian library, to which the trustees allowed him 
free access. He spent eight hours at the forge, eight hours 
in the library, and the remaining eight hours of each day in 
recreation and rest. After he had studied Hebrew, and made 
himself acquainted with its cognate languages — the Syriac, 
Chaldaic, Arabic, Samaritan, Ethiopic, &c., he turned his 
attention to the languages of Europe, and studied French, 
Spanish, Italian, and German, under native teachers. He 
then pursued the Portuguese, Flemish, Danish, Swedish, 
Norwegian, Icelandic, Welsh, Gaelic, Celtic, &c. 

It is somewhat remarkable that a man who has devoted 
so much of his time to the acquisition of languages, that 
he is a living polyglot, should have such mighty mathe- 
matical powers. Figures tumble from his pen like seeds from 
a sack when the string is untwined from its throat. There 
are but few men of past or present times, that can excel him 
in description. Take the following graphic sketch of the 
iron horse, as a specimen of his skill in that department of 
literature : — 

" I love to see one of these creatures, with sinews of brasa 
and muscles of iron, strut forth from his smoky stable, and, 



306 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

saluting the long train of cars with a dozen sonorous puffs 
from his iron nostrils, fall back gently into his harness. 
There he stands, champing and foaming upon the iron track, 
his great heart a furnace of glowing coals, his lymphatic 
blood is boiling in his veins, the strength of a thousand horses 
is nerving his sinews — he pants to be gone. He would 
' snake ' St. Peter's across the desert of Sahara, if he could 
be fairly hitched to it ; but there is a little, sober-eyed, 
tobacco-chewing man in the saddle, who holds him in with 
one finger, and can take away his breath in a moment, should 
he grow restive or vicious. I am always deeply interested in 
this man, for, begrimed as he may be with coal, diluted in 
oil and steam, I regard him as the genius of the whole 
machinery, as the physical mind of that huge steam-horse." 

Mr. Burritt believes that God has made of one blood all 
the nations of the earth, and he aims to unite them by the 
fraternal chain of brotherhood. He looks upon war as an 
inexcusable evil, and labors manfully for its extirpation. He 
would dismantle the arsenal, disband the army, spike the 
cannon, and reforge the cutlass ; he would take our ships of 
war and " lade them down to the w^ater's edge with food and 
covering for human beings." "The ballast should be round 
clams, or the real quahaugs, heavy as cast iron, and capital 
for roasting. Then he would build along up, filling every 
square inch with well-cured provisions. He would have a 
hogshead of bacon mounted into every port-hole, each of 
which should discharge fifty hams a minute, when the ship 
was brought into action ; and the state-rooms should be filled 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 30l 

With -well-made garments, and the taut cordage and tha 
long tapering spars should be festooned with boys' jackets 
and trousers. Then, when there should be no more room for 
another cod-fish or herring, or sprig of catnip, he would run 
up the white flag of peace. He would throw as many hams 
into the city in twenty-four hours as there were bomb-shells 
and cannon balls thrown into Keil by the besieging armies ; 
he would barricade the low, narrow streets with loaves of 
bread ; would throw up a breast-work, clear around the 
market-place, of barrels of flour, pork and beef, and in the 
middle raise a stack of salmon and cod-fish as large as a 
small Methodist meeting-house, with a steeple to it, and a bell 
in the steeple, and the bell should ring to all the city bells, 
and the city bells should ring to all the people to come to 
market and buy provisions, without money and without price. 
And white flags should everywhere wave in the breeze — on 
the vanes of steeples, on mast-heads, on flag-stafis along the 
embattled walls, on the ends of willow sticks, borne by the 
romping, laughing, trooping children. All the blood-colored 
drapery of war should bow and blush before the stainless 
standard of peace, and generations of Anglo-Saxons should 
remember, with mutual felicitations, the conquest of the white 
flag, or the storming of Quebec." 

Mr. Burritt has made his mark upon this age — a mark 
which time will not erase. His society is courted by the 
great men of Europe and America. He quietly suggests a 
world's convention, and Senators, members of Parliament, 
Baronets, and crowned heads, hearken to his counsels. He is 



308 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

the same great and good man, whether in the smithy, talking 
with the hard-handed nailers, or in the magnificent forum, 
pleading for peace, in presence of the dignitaries of the hand. 
He strives to smite off the clanking manacles from the uplifted 
hands of the bleeding slave, and to strike down the monster 
that wades in blood, and to build up the temple of universal 
peace, and to weld the world in an unbroken band of eternal 
brotherhood. He sees a spirit of selfishness abroad that would 
rob earth of its flowers and heaven of its lights, disinherit the 
angels, uncrown the Almighty, and sit upon the throne of the 
universe. So he has unfurled the white banner, and is now 
leading the crusaders of a good cause, to a battle where no 
blood will be shed, but where that evil, selfish spirit will le 
Bubdued, and peace shall triumph ! 




5a&avei"bj- J C .Buttre 







'^i^ayi/iyt^ 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS 309 



WILLIAM CULLEiX BRYANT. 

Nature has not a more appreciating admirei and devou. 
worshipper than William CuUen Bryant. The beautiful trees, 
when covered with green foliage, or crowned with the golden 
pomp of Autumn, or glassed in the ice of winter, as they 
stand with root clasped in root, and branch embracing 
branch, like a band of brothers, have been his instructors. 
The sweet sisterhood of flowers, gleaming like drops of sky 
and sunbeam, and rainbow, are the pets of his passionate 
love. The warbling birds, pouring forth their roundelays, 
or building their soft, round nests, or sitting on their spot- 
ted eggs, or cutting the air with swift-moving pinions, are 
his favorites. So are the lakes, shining like broaches set 
in emerald on the bosom of the earth — so are the streams 
sweeping like silver sickles through the green fields and 
forests. 

The rock is an altar on which he would fffer the sacrifice 
of a Jong — each stanza burning with holy fire, when, on the 
mountain sod he stands, with his feet on the earth and his 
heart in Heaven — the mountain is a footstool which touches 
the throne of God, and he kneels there. He looks upon the 
sea with sublime emotions, and the spirit which moves upon 
the waters stirs the great deep of his soul. 



310 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

" He can impart substance to shadows, and spirit to storms 
— put an Oread on every hill, and plunge a Naiad into every 
gushing spring " — 

"Ah! Bard, tremendous in sublimity, 
Could I behold thee in thy loftier mood. 
Wandering alone with finely frenzied eye, 
Beneath some vast, old, tempest-swinging wood, 
Awhile with mute awe gazing I would brood, 
Then weep aloud in a wild ecstasy." 

Mr. Bryant is one of the most polished poets of the age 
No one in America approximates moi'e closely to perfection 
of finish than he. He is generally meditative, always in 
earnest, often sad. He has never been guilty of literary 
larceny ; has never violated the exact rules of exquisite taste ; 
has never published a mediocre poem from his own pen, and 
although for many years connected with the daily press, he has 
never wantonly assailed a brother bard or any one else, but 
has invariably exhibited that Christian courtesy for which ho 
is preeminently distinguished. As for his style, it is so 
accurate, so elegant, so in accordance with the "decora of 
composition" he has been regarded by some, as cold and 
conservative, and without genius — but such is not the case. 
It is true he has not the versatility of Willis, nor the fire of 
Whittier, nor the humor of Lowell, nor the eloquent radi- 
calism of Pierpont ; but he is not a whit behind them in his 
appreciation of nature, and far ahead of them in artistic skill, 
and unsurpassed by any American writer in descriptive 
power. He is not only a scholarly man of superb talents, 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 311 

but a man of remarkable genius, whose writings will be a* 
fresh as nature, centuries hence, when the writings of many 
of his cotemporaries, overestimated now, will be confined to 
the closet of the antiquarian. He was a precocious child ; 
when but thirteen years of age he wrote a poem, from which 
T o^py the following lines : — 

" Oh, might some patriot rise, the gloom dispel, 
Chase Error's mist, and break the magic spell ! 
But vain the wish, for hark the murmuring meed 
Of hoarse applause from yonder shed proceed. 
Enter and view the thronging concourse there, 
Intent with gaping mouth and stupid stare, 
While in their midst their supple leader stands. 
Harangues aloud and flourishes his hands." 

The " Waterfowl " is one of the most beautiful and perfect 
poems in the language. 

" Whither, midst falling dew, 
While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, 
Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue 
Thy solitary way ? 

" Vainly the fowler's eye, 
Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, 
As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, 
Thy figure floats along. 

" Seekest thou the plashy brink 
Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide ; 
Or, where the rocking billows rise and sink, 
On the chafed ocean side ? 



312 CRAYON SKETCHES, i-ND 



" There is a power whose care 
Teaches thy way along that pathless coast, 
The desert and illimitable air, — 

Lone, wandering, but not lost. 

" All day thy wings have fann'd. 
At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, 
Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, 
Though the dark night is near. 

" And soon that toil shall end ; 
Soon shalt thou find a surmner home and rest, 
And scream among thy fellows ; reeds shall bend, 
Soon, o'er thy sheltered nest. 

" Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven 
Hath swallowed up thy form, yet, on my heart 
Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given, 
And shall not soon depart. 

" He, who, from zone to zone. 
Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight. 
In the long way that I must tread alone, 
Will lead my steps aright." 

Edgar A. Poe, says that the poem entitled " Oh, Fairest of 
the Rural Maids," will strike every poet as the truest poein 
written by Bryant. It is richly ideal. 

Here are a few passages which prove their author a man 
of lofty genius, and not a mere man of talent and erudition. 

" Breezes of the south, 
That toss the gXilden and the iiame-like flowers." 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 313 

* And pass the prairie hawk, that, poised on high, 
Flaps his broad wings, yet moves not." 

" Tlie great heavens 
Seem to stoop down upon the scene in love, 
'Till twilight blushed, and lovers walked and wooed 
In a forgotten language, and old tunes 
Frona instruments of unremembered form, 
Gave the soft winds a voice." 

" The mountains that infold, 
In their wild sweep, the colored landscape round, 
Seem g^roups of giant kings in purple and gold. 

That guard the enchanted ground." 

•' So live, that, when thy summons comes to join 
The innumerable caravan, that moves 
To that mysterious realm, where each shall take 
His chamber in the .silent halls of death. 
Thou go not, like the quarry .slave at night, 
Scourged to his dungeon, but sustained and soothed 
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave — 
Like one, that draws the drapery of his couch 
About him, and lies down in pleasant dreams." 

Rumor says, that the magnificent lines, last quoted, were 
never read by Thomas Campbell, the author of the " Pleasures 
of Hope," without causing him to shed tears. 

Mr. Bryant is a native of Curamington, Ma.ssachusetts. 

His father was an eminent physician, distinguished for his 

learning, and taste, and scientific attainments. When our 

author was sixteen years of age, he entered Williams' college, 

where he was eminent for his attainments. He commenced 

the study of law in 1812 ; and was admitted to the bar three 

14 



314 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

fears afterwards, and forthwitli commenced practice ic cLj 
town of Great Barrington. He was but little more than « igti- 
teen years of age when he wrote " Thanatopsis," which was 
first published in the North American Review. In 1821, he 
delivered " The Ages " before a literary society in Harvard. 
After ten years practice at the law, he removed to New York, 
and devoted himself to literary pursuits in the society of such 
men as Verplanck, Sands, Legget, &c. In 1826, he assumed 
the chief management of the " Evening Post ;" a position he 
still occupies with honor to himself, and credit to his craft. 

The Post is one of the most readable and influential jour- 
nals on this continent. Of course, no true poet can counte- 
nance oppression ; and "when the question of slavery was 
first agitated by leading men, in and out of his party, he 
wielded his pen in defence of the weak and down-trodden. 
He has been a vigorous opposer of the Fugitive Slave Bill ; 
and like a brave, honest man, fearlessly trips up the infamous 
intriguers, who make the auction block their platform. Mr. 
Bryant is a reformer, and is classed among the " Softs " of 
the democratic party — the term, however, applies more to the 
hearts than it does to the heads of the humane leaders in 
the ranks to which he belonofs. 

Mr. Bryant is upwards of fifty years of age, about five 
feet nine inches in height, with rather athletic frame ; he has 
a large, thin, sallow face, lit up with a pair of sharp, grey 
eyes, which twinkle like stars, under heavy eye-brows — his 
countenance indicates the reserved dignity for which he is 
noted ; his forehead is broad, head quite bald, hair fine, 



OFF-HAXD TAKINGS. 315 

soft, and grey, with whiskers to match ; he dresses with neat- 
ness and simplicity. Notwithstanding the sternness of his 
smile, and the sedateness of his physiognomy, he is genial as 
the sunshine, and his heart overflows with generosity. If 
General Pierce was king, and not President, he could not do 
a wiser thing than to make the greatest poet of his party 
Poet Laureate. As Wordsworth linked his name with the 
waters of Windermere, and the vale of Keswick, and the 
towering Ilelvellyn ; so Bryant's name is indissolubly associ- 
ated with the lakes, and prairies, and mountains of America. 



316 CRAYON SKETCHEa. AND 



DANIEL S. DICKINSON 

The political nomenclature of New York is a science not 
tauofht in tlie schools. A tliorouffh knowledofe of the various 
names assumed by some and assigned to others, requires an 
out-dobr education — a sidewalk and street-corner tuition, a 
convention and mass-meeting training. Wliy, the names given 
to the "Federalists," and "Republicans," the " Clintonians," 
and the "Bucktails," have become obsolete, and the terms 
"Whig" and "Democrat" are regarded as altogether too 
•antiquated for modern use; so we have the "Silver Greys" 
and the "Hunkers," the "Conscience Whigs" and the "Cot- 
ton Whigs" — the "Free Democrats," which of course implies 
there are Democrats that are not free, such for instance as are 
known by the euphonious title of "Hunkers" — then we have 
the Barnburners, known also by the names of "Softs," "Putty- 
heads," "the Unterrified," and their bitterest opponents, the 
"Hards," "the Terrified," &c. 

Daniel S. Dickinson is an " Old Hunker," dyed in the wool, 
although not a "woolly head." He is one of the hardest of 
the hards, one of the most terrible of the terrified — a Northern 
man with Southern principles — a Vii-ginian born by mistake 
in Connecticut, and the burden of his song, is " Oh, carry ma 
back to old Virginia, to old Virginia shore." If he ever prayed 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 31^ 

he praj-ed (to whom ?) for the passage of the Fugitive Slave 
Law. If he ever labored harder at one time than another, it 
was when his voice and vote could help to place the compro- 
mise measures — so called — upon our statute books. No man 
crawled longer and crouched lower than he did, to serve the 
south at the expense of the north. He forgot he had constitu- 
ents to serve, and devoted himself exclusively and unsparino-ly 
to the slave power — toiling incessantly for those who despised 
his principles while they praised his "patriotism." The chival- 
rous southerner, whose instincts and education and interests 
wedded him to the "peculiar institution" is guilty enough in 
the face of humanity and heaven, but his guilt whitens into 
innocence when contrasted with the contemptible meanness 
which impels a native of New England to crouch and cringe 
in the most "terrified" manner in the presence of his masters. 
Pray what will be the reward of his trimming and treachery? 
Will he step from the neck of the slave to a seat in the 
cabinet ? Can he climb into the presidential chair on the bleed- 
ing back of a negro ? Will the nation clap its hands to see him 
chase a fugitive ? Will his nomination terminate in auythinw 
but defeat? He is, undoubtedly, a man of extraordinary talent, 
without however a single spark of genius. He is a debater of 
uncommon ability — a well read statesman, an industrious wor- 
ker, a skilful tactitian, a shrewd sharp politician, up to all the arts 
and tricks of wool and wire pulling and log-rolling — and had he 
kept pace with the progress of the progressives in his party, he 
would have been a man the Democrats would have delighted to 
honor. In private life, I have the impression he is a most esti* 



318 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

mable man, a faithful husband, an affectionate parent, a dutiful 
son, a law-abiding citizen, an obliging neighbor, and I cannot 
force myself to believe that he would not shelter a slave ovei 
night, under his hospitable roof — that he would not shield him 
from the sharp teeth of devouring hounds — that he would not 
give him a crust of bread and a cup of water, and speed him on 
his way, even though he travelled on the underground railroad. 
Yes, his heart is better than his avowed sentiments, for surely 
he is too dignified to steal babies, and whip women, and sepa- 
rate families. Senator Dickinson is a native of Goshen, Con- 
necticut, and was born September 11th, 1800. When he was 
16 years of age, he accompanied his father to the State of New 
York, where he was apprenticed to a mechanic, and acquired a 
knowledge of some useful branch of industry. What trade he 
learned, I have not the power to say. Preferring to work with 
his head, he relinquished the work of his hands, and studied 
law, and in 1823 he was admitted to the bar of the New York 
Supreme Court. He became distinguished in his profession, 
and pursued it with triumphant success, until he was elected 
to the State Senate in 1836. While Lieutenant-Governor and 
President of the Senate, he was the oracle of his party. In 
1844, he was appointed to the Senate of the United States, and 
continued a member of that body until March 4th, 1851. So 
much for Senator Dickinson. His political career is nearly 
ended — his party winding-sheet already woven. His political 
grave is dug and his political damnation sure, and he must 
bear the blame on his shoulders. His conscience, his reason., 
his friends, and even his party warned him of the danger that 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 319 

lurked like a lion in his patli, but he heeded not the counsel 
of the wise, and laughed at the experience of sages, now he ia 
" terrified," and has become one of the hardest of the hards. 
His speeches are rather dry, but well put together. They are 
not adorned with many gems of poetry and eloquence, but are 
practical, sensible, logical, and philosophical speeches. If he 
reforms, I shall be glad to tear this sketch from my book and 
substitute the good things it would afford me so much pleasure 
to say respecting him. 

" Scripture Dick," as he is sometimes called, is so exhilara- 
ted because the Adamantine Democrats have just now an 
opportunity to show undisguisedly their heart-hatred of Van 
Burcn and Dix and Marcy, and men of that kidney, he has 
become quite facetious. Ilis most intimate friends will be aston- 
ished at the mother wt and cleverness he has recently exhibited 
on the platform at New York and Buffalo. "When the staging 
fell at the former place at the mass meeting in the Park, ho 
was hard enough to pass through the ordeal uninjured. He 
deserves some credit for his courage and consistency, for he is 
not afraid to avow his sentiments, and he keeps his party 
pledges inviolate. He does not attempt to bridge over the 
great gulf between the Buffalo and the Baltimore platforms 
with resolutions in favor of compromise measures. 

I am indebted to the "New York Tribune" for the following 
extracts from recent speeches. The editor remarks: — 

" ' Scripture Dick,' whom we used to consider the sorriest of 
flow jokers, has really brightened up, and is 'redolent' of good 



320 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

things — witness the following sparkles from his speech last 
Friday evening at Buffalo : — 

* * * "The Democratic party now stands where it has 
ever stood. Let those who planted themselves upon the oppo- 
site [Buffalo] platform, remain there until they can come back 
truly repentant. When the time arrives, the Democratic party 
will stand Avith open arms to receive the prodigals. But they 
must be content to serve in the ranks, and to prove the sin- 
cerity of their repentance. It is not usually considered fair or 
consistent to put one in command as a captain, as soon as he 
returns from a party of desertion ; and the masses may require 
that these men should at least get the smell of treachery off 
their garments, before they adopt them as leaders. The boat- 
men on the Susquehanna River have a rule that no person 
shall be allowed to steer until he has rowed for five years ; and 
this is a healthy rule, if applied to those politicians who have so 
recently been in open hostility to the party they pretend now 
to rejoin. Their conversion is sudden enough to excite at least 
a suspicion of its honesty, and should be tested before it is 
trusted. A veteran fisherman was once famous for catchinof 
eels, but he would sometimes catch something else. His 
experience taught him that all were not eels that came to the 
net. He would therefore turn them out upon the shore, and alt 
that ran for the water he took for eels, while all that ran for a 
stone-heaj} he killed for snakes. I am not sure but this is a 
good rule to apply at the present time to ascertain who are 
true and who are bogfus Democrats." 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 321 

Here is another good thing from Daniel, better than wa 
often find so compactly and caustically presented in a stump 
speech : 

* But these men [the Short-Boys], 1 regret to say it, were 
Hot the only ones present at that [Syracuse] Convention, who 
should not have been there. The Governor of the State — I 
allude to it with sorrow — the Governor of the State of New 
York was there. Perhaps he was there merely to amuse him- 
self by making auger-holes with a gimlet — but there he was. 
It was the first time that ever a Governor of the State of New 
York was found in a Convention, lobbying and bargaining 
with its membei-s, and I believe it will be the last. I know, 
indeed, that it will be the last time that Governor will be guilty 
of such an impropriety/, and I do not think we could readily 
find another who would emulate his example. Other State 
officers were there also. The Controller and some others went 
up from the Civ^\to\, probably to prevent their own nomination. 
I am very happy to say they were entirely successful. But, in 
spite of all these appliances, Union and Harmony were, after 
all, defeated. It is a singular fact, but so it is. The members 
of the Convention had the Governor of the State tempting 
them on toith the spoils in front, and the Short-Boys of New 
York p)ricking them up with bowie-knives in the rear, and yet 
they failed to harmonize. They had everything under heaven 
to induce united action ; and yet, behold the result !" 

Just one more extract from this clever speech. It is a> 
candid as it is characteristic : 

" We have got rid of the mischievous traitors, let us keep 



322 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

clear of tliem. It is true, they say, we are all on one platform, 
but when did we get there ? No longer ago than last winter 
when just such resolutions as the platform embodies were intro- 
duced into the Assembly ; if a cholera patient or a hand gre- 
nade had been placed in their midst, there could not have 
been a more effectual scattering of these very men. The very 
speaker had to fly the house like a dog with a tin kettle fas- 
tened behind him. It was only last winter that one of their 
body got up and denounced this very jjlatform, as embraced 
in the President's Inaugural, as damnable. Then, gentlemen, 
is it to be wondered at, considering the formidable head they 
presented then, and the tapering tail they present now, if you 
and I, and all of us refuse to go near them? No; I prefer 
imitating the action of the man, who, while attending a race, 
was kicked by a woolly horse which had been hitched to a 
post too near the path. He was much hurt, and paced the 
walk in fury, crying out, ' show me the man that hitched the 
woolly horse to the post.' "When the bystanders sympathized 
with him, ' Show me the man that hitched the woolly horse 
thar,^ was all his reply. Presently the owner of the horse, a 
stout-built man, approached. ' My friend,' he began, ' I am 
sorry.' ' I want none of your sorrow, sir,' replied the man ; 
'show me the man that hitched the woolly horse tharP 
' Well,' said the owner, ' if you want to know so badly, / did ; 
and what are you going to do about it ?' ' Well,' said thu 
injured individual, ' I swear I'll never go near that woolly 
horse again !' And, my friends, I'll never go near that woolly 
horse again. I have no faith in it. It will kick at anj 
moment." 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 323 



GENERAL WINFIELD SCOTT. 

General Winfield Scott is a giant in stature, six feet six 
in his stockings, and of perfect proportions. In regimentals, 
and on horseback, he is the most magnificent soldier in Ame- 
rica. Nicholas of Russia, is the only man in Europe known 
to fame who at all approximates to such an unusual develop- 
ment of form. In any age, in any country, he would have 
been a chosen chieftain. The Red men of the forest would 
have been proud of such a chief The Romans would have 
followed him during a lifetime and deified hira after death. 
No wonder Uncle Sam chose his tall, broad-shouldered nephew 
to be his prize-fighter. His very presence scared the Mexicans 
as Goliath of Gath frightened the Hebrews. Should there be 
a World's Fair for the display of physically great men of per- 
fect mould, the United States would win the first premium, 
and Scott would wear the medal. He is a soldier — a scientific 
soldier, a brave soldier, a magnanimous soldiei", a hero whose 
name belongs to history, whose fame is perpetual. 

The American people have expected and exacted too much 
of this scarred and battered veteran. No man excels in every- 
thing. One great thing is as much as we should look for from 
any one man. 

Divest General Scott of his regimentals, and place him on 
Ihe rostrum, and we have a hundred white-livered one-horse- 



324 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

power attorneys who can excel him in debate, and they would 
shine, while he would stammer and become a laughing-stock. 

Take away his sword, ask him to write, and he will wield 
the pen so awkwardly, that little mousing editors will denounce 
him, and cry " blockhead," and a great many other delectable 
names which may be found in the black-letter literature of the 
day. That General Scott is intellectually a great man, nobody 
pretends to say, who is at all qualified to judge. He is groat 
in the camp, he would be good for nothing in Congress. He 
is a brave soldier, but a bungling statesman. He is a capital 
swordsman, but a wretched speaker. He can fight well, but 
he cannot write so well as some of the private soldiers under 
his command. When he attempts to address an audience, his 
tongue hangs fire at first, and when it does go off, it goes ofi" 
"half cocked," and never hits the mark. It is well for him 
he was not elected President of the United States, for a free 
people do not desire to be commanded, and it is more than 
probable, in the event of his election he would have been either 
the tool of his cabinet, or a tyrant over the country. In either 
case he would have disappointed his friends and lost the green 
laurels and the golden honors he has won. He would have 
been always eating a hasty and indigestible " plate of soup," 
with a most tormenting " fire in his rear." 

In private life he is a most exemplary man, abjuring the use 
of wine, consequently, he will never fall under the influence of 
grape-shot. His history is so familiar to every schoolboy, I 
will not repeat the facts in this sketch. 

His character may be summed up in a few words. He is 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 325 

vam and loves military display, " fuss and feathers " delight 
him exceedingly. He is proud, and cannot brook opposition 
without an explosion of bad temper. He is sensitive, and exacts 
much attention from his friends. He is brave, and woe 
betide his enemies. When he speaks from the black lips of 
cannon, and cannon-balls are the iron words he utters, he makes 
an impression, and the nations of the earth hear his eloquence. 
When bayonets are arguments, he is pretty sure to make his 
opponents yield to the force of his pointed reasoning. He is 
fond of fame, and the following lines are not inappropriate, 
although when I wrote them I had another person in view. 

Clarissa. We all must die, for Death will serve his writ, 
And we must pay down life, when Nature's debt 
Is due. When sickness, like a notary, comes 
To warn us that the days of gi-ace are few — 
We need not fear, if our accounts are right, 
And we're stockholders in the bank of heaven. 

William. I'm the ten millionth fraction of the race 
A grain of sand upon the sea-washed shore, 
An insect fluttering in the light of day. 
An item lost in the vast aggregate, 
And when I drop into the grave, the world 
Will miss me, as the forest does a leaf, 
Plucked by the wind and blown away from sight ; 
Then why this inextinguishable thirst for fame ? 
Fame is a sea that will not seek the grain 
Of sand the sea bird swallowed with its meal. 
Fame is a sun, that will not leave its sphere, 
To find the gnat that sported in its beams. 
Fame will not seek me in my sodded home. 
When the red sea of life has ceased to dash 
Against this narrow shore of flesh and bones ; 
Ajid when the sun of life, unclouded now. 
Sinks out of sight behind the churchyard mouad. 



826 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

Clarissa. Ambitious man ! if fickle fame should press 
A golden trumpet to her lips of air, 
And sound thy name throughout the wondering world, 
Until it filled the earth as yonder moon 
Fills all the space twixt earth and heaven with light, 
And mothers called their cliildren by thy name. 
And sculptors in Carara carved thy bust, 
While poets praised thee in immortal verse — 
And nations named their capitols for thee, 
Until thy broad-mouthed appetite was gorged — 
And thou wert covered o'er with stars of fame, 
As over-arching skies are paved with light. 
Would fell disease respect thy laurelled brow ? 
Could scowling death be bribed to spare thy life ? 
And after death, would the vxnsparing hand 
Of time be slow to turn thy form to dust ? 
Couldst thou step from thy monument to heaven ? 
Would bannered angels with their golden harps, 
Echo the brazen throated fame of earth. 
And shake with shouts the battlements of bliss, 
And march in triumph through the golden streets ? 

William. The ocean swallows streams, then puts its lips 
Of sand against the river's mouth for more — 
Clasping the green banks in its ardent arms, 
Until at last, the jealous moon comes forth 
From her white chambers in the lofty sky, 
And with her wand drives back the wanton waves. 
Fame is the restless ocean in my breast. 
To which all other passions flow like streams. 

Clarissa. Good resolutions stereotyped in deeds, 
Pure hearts whose throbs are felt in what we say — 
Souls shining with the light that comes from God, 
And lives imselfish and unstained by vice, 
Should be our aim, and not the praise of men. 
The loud hosannas of to-day, may be 
Exchanged for scorn, and cross, and crown of thorns 
Before the next moon fills her horn with light. 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 321 



WILLIAM R. STACY. 

William R. Stacy is a plain, business man, whose hands, 
and heart, and soul, are earnestly engaged in the total 
abstinence reform. In season and out of season, he is the 
same untiring, uncompromising and unflinching champion of 
the cause. In Societies, in Sections, in Divisions, in Tents, 
and in Temples, he is known as an efficient worker. Fair- 
weather friends and summer-fly advocates of abstinence 
doctrines are constantly rebuked by his unyielding adhe- 
rence to the letter and the spirit of the pledge. Temperance 
thermometers, whose mercury is sure to rise and foil, 
according to the state of the atmosphere, wonder with open 
mouths and open eyes, and leathern ears and leaden brains, 
why Mr. Stacy denies himself the lazy ease which they mis- 
name enjoyment. Politicians, who can accommodate them- 
selves to every sect in religion, to every party in politics, to 
every shade of society, and, like chameleons, assume the color 
of the community in which they move, are astonished that a 
man of his tact and influence, and persevering energy, does 
not attempt to reap laurels and gain gold in the field of poli- 
tical action. Those who need not envy the donkey its redun- 
dancy of ear, are surprised that such a sensible man should 
engage in such " small business." 



328 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

Captain Stacy is President of the Parent Washingtonian 
Temperance Society, in this city — an institution which has 
been in successful operation for twelve years, during which time 
hundreds and thousands have been added to its membership. 
This good Samaritan society not only secures names to the 
pledge, but feeds the hungry, clothes the destitute, visits the 
sick. It has been instrumental in healing hearts that were 
broken, and restoring to society men who had degraded them- 
selves by the use of strong drinks. Through summer and 
winter, spring and autumn, fair weather and foul weather, Mr. 
Stacy has attended the meetings of this society. 

His friends seem to appreciate his worth by heaping honors 
upon him. The last two years, he was Most Worthy Asso- 
ciate of the National Division. He is now Most Worthy 
Templar of the National Temple. These distinctions have 
fallen upon a worthy man. There is no poetry, no tinselry 
about his speeches. His thoughts are clad in a thin covering 
of scanty words. He works noiselessly and out of sight, but 
very effectually. Is there a cross to carry, his shoulders are 
chosen to bear the burden. Is there money to raise, Ms 
financiering skill is called into exercise. Is there a mammoth 
meeting to be held, he is expected to make the necessary 
preparations. 

Mr. Stacy is in the prime of life, a man of common stature, 
has dark hair, large light eyes, an honest face, a good develop- 
ment of benevolence, and firmness enousfh to render him 
obstinate when opposed — providing ho has reason to believe 
be is on the right side of the question Few men are so wel] 



OrF-HAND TAKINGS. 329 

acquainted with the "workings" of the National Temple aa 
he ; few men have more influence in the great national tem- 
perance movement than he. It is evident that he accepts 
office for the purpose of extending the sphere of his usefulness, 
and not for the gratification of his personal vanity. 

He never occupies much time in his public addresses — 
does not stop to dissect his dictionary for choice language, but 
speaks out in manly style the thoughts that are uppermost 
in his mind. He is not a classical scholar, and never triea 
to pass for more than he is worth, by awkward attempts at 
rounding periods and polishing sentences. His striking cha- 
racteristics are generosity, energy perseverance, courage and 
oommon sense. 



330 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



GERRIT SMITH. 

On my return from the West, I called to see that geueroua 
philanthropist, eminent orator, and impracticable radical, Ger- 
rit Smith. I found him in his office, pen in hand at his wri- 
ting-desk. When he read my note of introduction, he remarked 
that he was familiar with my name, and supposed I was a 
much older man. He politely invited me to avail myself of 
his hospitality. I did so, and had an opportunity of seeing 
him at home. 

Mr. Smith lives in a small white house, about two miles 
distant from the village of Peterboro'. It is plainly and spa- 
ringly furnished. There are no luxurious sofas upon which 
to lounge, no costly carpets upon which to tread, no costly 
mirrors at which to gaze. Everything about his residence 
pArtakes of the useful rather than the ornamental. I found 
him an accessible, sociable, pleasant man, thoroughly familiar 
with the history of the reformers and the reformatory move- 
ments of the present day. 

It is well known that this distinguished man stands at the 
head of the most radical class of reformers. Indeed he stands 
out so far in front of his age, that slow-moving conservatives 
cannot appreciate the man nor his motives. He denounces 
rum -patronizing and pro-slavery churches • consequently all 




,.>;r;v'fdV.-.',C a-utt-re 



7 



' ,.^ 




-'K 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 331 

the anathema maranathas of unsympathizing and unsanctified 
professors of religion are hurled at his head, and he is con- 
demned as an infidel, whereas he evidently is an humble and 
devoted follower of Christ. " By their fruits ye shall know 
them." He asks a blessing at his table. Night and morning 
he lays the sacrifice of a broken and contrite heart on thf 
altar of family devotion. Every day he carefully studies the 
Scriptures ; and manifests his love to God whom he has not 
seen, by his love toward his brother-man whom he has seen. 

Few men have done more than Mr. Smith to assist the poor, 
to clothe the naked, to feed the hungry, reform the drunkard 
and liberate the bondman. The hotels owned by him in dif- 
ferent towns and cities in this country, are invariably rented 
for half the sum liquor-landlords would pay for the same pre- 
mises. In this way, he has cheerfully sacrificed thousands of 
dollars to promote the temperance cause. I have not men 
tioned his munificent donations and eloquent lectures directed 
to the same object. This model man gave three thousand 
fjirms to the same number of black persons, and now he ofiera 
a thousand farms and ten thousand dollars to a thousand white 
persons in the State of New York. Mr. Smith's father was in 
partnership with John Jacob Astor, at one period of his life. 
When he died, he bequeathed to the subject of this sketch 
three quarters of a million acres of land. 

In point of intellect, Mr. Smith ranks with such men as Clay 
and Benton. His mind is comprehensive and well cultivated. 
His temperament volcanic, but usually controlled by an acute 
judgment. As an orator he has but few superiors. His man- 



332 CRATON SKETCHES, AND 

ner is deliberate and dignified ; his matter dioice and cla8« 
sical ; his personal appearance noble and attractive. He is about 
six feet tall, and of perfect proportions ; forehead high and 
broad ; eyes large, dark, and expressive ; hair brown, and 
cropped close to his head. At the time I saw him he wore a 
suit of bottle-green, and his broad shirt-collar lay down like a 
large snow-flake over a black neckerchief. He never deco- 
rates his person with the tinselry and jewelry of fashion. He 
eats plain food, sleeps on a hard bed, bathes every day, drinks 
nothing but cold water, walks from four to ten miles a day, 
writes from fifty to two hundred letters per week, furnishes 
long and labored communications for the press, and speaks 
frequently at public meetings. 

It is not often we find a man Avith such immense wealth at 
his command, sympathizing as he does with his less fortunate 
fellow men. He believes that man is as much entitled to the 
earth as he is to air and water, and desires to see every man 
own a house and lot ; is opposed to tariffs, and advocates with 
great zeal and eloquence the doctrine of free trade ; believes 
there is " a good time coming," when the clarion of war shall 
cease, and the olive-trees shall grow above mouldering bones 
on battlefields ; when degi*ading poverty shall hide its dimin- 
ished head, and smiling competence shall find all men sitting 
under their OAvn vines and fig-trees, none daring to molest or 
make them afraid ; when slavery shall no longer bind on heavy 
burdens ; when intemperance shall be among the things that 
w^ere, and abstinence principles shall universally prevail. With 
such views, it may not be expected that he always travels on a 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 333 

smooth road and sleeps on a bed of roses. He stirs up the old 
hornet-nests of hunkerism, and awakens the slumbering dog' 
kennels of conservatism ; so that he frequently hears the buzz- 
ing of insects and the baying of hounds. 

Incorrigible conservatives, who cling to grey old customs 
and straight roads, who hate an uneven pathway, although 
it may be the safest and the nearest, remind one of the 
rats of Norway, that travel in millions from the hills toward 
the ocean.* They turn neither to the right nor the left, but 
gnaw their way through barns and corn-fields, swimming or sail- 
ing over rivers, climbing walls and mountains, sweeping through 
crowded thoroughfares, tumbling from the roofs of houses. 
On, on, rolls the wave of rats, leaving behind nothing but dead 
carcases and a foul atmosphere. Man is a progressive animal 
and the more conservative heuis, the nearer he approximates to 
the unintellectual brute, and the further he recedes from estab- 
lished laws. God made man upright, and furnished him with 
a capital of bones and brains with which to commence life. 
Experience, observation, and reflection taught him that winter 
would freeze him, summer scorch him, fire burn him, water 
drown him, the wild beast devour him, and the avalanche 
crush him. He robed himself in garments to protect him from 
the cold of the North and the heat of the South. He built a 
house for his comfort and protection. He domesticated the 
dog, the cow, and the horse, for his own accommodation. Ha 
dried venison and fish, sowed seed and reaped harvests, and 
continued his progressive movements until the rude hut becama 

• Carlyle. 



334 



CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



a stately palace, the bark canoe a mighty ship, vvitl. sails anc 
masts, the clumsy cart, a city on wheels, drawn by steam-steeda 
over iron roads. Steam is our horse, lio-htnino; our herald, 
water our servant, and the sun our portrait-painter. 

Reform tunnels our mountains, levels the hills, lifts up the 
valleys, and flings its floating bridges of steel and steam and 
flame and smoke over the oceans. Our railroads are iron 
bands binding us in the bonds of universal brotherhood. Ouj 
electric wires are so many nerves of sensation, reaching from 
Maine to Minnesota. 

Mr. Smith is one of the few who keep pace with the march 
of improvement, and he heartily employs his purse, pen and 
tongue in behalf of free trade, free soil, free types, free lips, 
and free men. He believes the Constitution is an " anti-slavery 
document;" so do the free-soil abolitionists, yet is not a "free- 
soiler." He believes the church is pro-slavery, and on that 
question agrees with the Garrisonians, but he does not beloB/j 
to that party. He is at the head of the " Liberty party," ais J 
his creed embraces every degree of reform, from the use c T 
cold water as a beverage and in the bath, to the emancipatio . 
of three millions of men. ^ 



GEERIT smith's SPEECH AT THE ANTI-SLAVERY CONVENTION, 
PETERBORO', N. Y., OCTOBER, 1835. 

" Mr. President. — Allow me to commence a few remarks 
by stating the history of this resolution. On returning home 
from Utica last night, my mind was so much excited with the 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 335 

horrid scenes of the day, and the frightful encroachments made 
on the right of free discussion, that I could not sleep, and at 
3 o'clock I left my bed, and drafted the resolution as just read, 
and also noted down a few heads of thought which I may 
refer to or not as I proceed. 

" It is known to all here that I am not a member of the 
anti-slavery society — nor am I prepared to become a member. 
I rise under the courtesy of the vote by which I have been 
kindly invited to sit with you and take part in your delibera- 
tions. At the same time I am admonished by passing events, 
that it will soon be necessary for every friend of human rights 
or of the slave, and every man who is not himself a slave, or 
willing to be one, to act in concert with those over whose heads 
the war is apparently to be carried on against the right of 
free discussion, and probably the day is not distant, when, with 
all my objections, I shall become a member of your society. 

"That I have had objections to the course of the Anti-slavery 
Society is well known. What those objections were I need 
not state here. They are spread out before the public, and it 
would be unreasonable to bring them forward here. 

" This much, however, I will say now. Your great principles 
are my great principles. I was born with them. I am not 
conscious that I ever in my life opposed, for an hour, the great 
and glorious doctrine of immediate emancipation. The odious 
doctrines that you hold, I hold also. All the sentiments that 
occasion you to be called amalgamators and insurrectionists, 
make the supporters of slavery call me an amalgamator 
and an insm-rectionist. I love to look at the Anti-slaverj 



336 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

Society, and at myself, and to say, ' una sjpes, unaque salus, 
ambobus erit.^* 

" When I see your reputation, and property, and lives in 
peril, I love to bring my reputation, and property, and life into 
the same peril. Let me read the resolution. 

" ' Resolved. — That the right of free discussion given to us 
by our God, and asserted and guarded by the laws of oui 
country, is a right so vital to man's freedom, and dignity, and 
usefulness, that we can never be guilty of its surrender, without 
consenting to exchange that freedom for slavery, and that 
dignity and usefulness for debasement and worthlessness.' 

" I love our free and happy government. But not because 
it confers any new rights upon us. Our rights spring from a 
nobler source than human constitutions and governments — 
from the favor of Almighty God, Constitutions and laws are 
modes of human device for asserting and defining and carrying 
out the great natural and inherent rights of man, which belong 
to him as a rational creature of God. 

" We do not learn our rights in the book of Constitution. 
We learn them from the Book of Books, which is the great 
chai'ter of human rights. Rights belong to human nature. 
Constitutions at the most do but recognise and preserve what 
never was theirs to give. The reason why I love a republi- 
can form of government is, not that this form of government 
clothes us with rights withheld by other forms, but that it 
makes fewer encroachments on the rights which God gava 

* One hope and one salvation shall be to us both. 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 337 

US, fewer restrictions upon the di^^nely appointed scope of 
man's agency. 

****** 

" I must say one word under the head I have marked in 
ray notes of ' Utica Mobs.' Not that I design to dwell on 
the transactions of yesterday themselves. But a topic which 
they suggest is important enough to be noticed. This right 
of free discussion, sir, there is one class of men who ought 
to be particularly tenacious of, I mean poor men. These 
constitute the most numerous class in every country, and 
therefore to the true philanthropist they are of the greatest 
value. The worldling graduates his interest in men according 
to their wealth, or rank, or external show. But the eye of 
the Christian philanthropist regards all with equal interest, 
because all souls are equal. When the rich are divested of 
their rights, they have still their riches and honors to rest on, 
for dignity and for defence. But when the poor man is 
divested of his right to speak, he is divested of all his rights. 
Take from him that in which, almost alone, he stands on 
equal ground with his rich neighbor, the freedom of speech, 
and, sir, the man of poverty will soon find himself wholly at 
the mercy of the man of wealth. The poor men in Utica 
whom we saw led on by men of wealth to a violent assault 
against free discussion, will yet see the suicidal character of 
their proceedings. 

" The rights which they have attacked in your persons, are 

their own dearest rights, without which they cannot help 

being trampled into the dust, for wealth and title have always 

15 



338 OKAYON SKETCHES, AND 

of old trampled into the dust those who have not this right 
to speak. 

" We are even now threatened with legislative restrictions 
on this riirht. Let us tell our legislators in advance that we 
cannot bear it. The man who attempts to interpose such 
restrictions does a grievous wrong to God and man, which we 
cannot bear. Submit to this, and we are no longer what God 
made us to be — men. Laws to gag men's mouths, to seal up 
their lips, to freeze up the warm gushings of the heart, are 
laws which the free spirit cannot brook. They are laws 
contrary alike to the nature of man and the commands of 
God, laws destructive of human happiness and the divine 
constitution, and before God and man they are null and 
VOID. They defeat the very purposes for which God made 
man, and throw him mindless, helpless, and worthless, at the 
feet of the oppressor. 

" And for what purpose are we called to throw down our 
pens and seal up our lips, and sacrifice our influence over our 
fellow-men, by the use of free discussion ? If it was for an 
object of benevolence, that we were called to renounce that 
freedom of speech with which God made us, there would be 
some color of fitness in the demand. But such a sacrifice, 
the cause of truth and mercy never calls us to make. 

"The cause requires the exertion, not the suppression, of our 
noblest powers. 

" But here we are called on to desrrade and unman our- 
selves, and to withhold from our fallen men that influence 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 539 

which we ought to exercise for their good. And for what ? 
I will tell you for what. 

" That the oppressed may lie more passive at the feet of 
the oppressor ; that one sixth of our American people may 
never know their rights; that two-and-a-half milHons of our 
own countrymen, crushed in the cruel folds of slavery, may 
remain in all their misery and despair, without pity and 
without hope. 

" For such a purpose, so wicked, so inexpressibly mean, the 
southern slave-holder calls on us to lie down, like whipped 
and trembling spaniels, at his feet. 

" Our reply is this ; our republican spirits cannot submit to 
such conditions. God did not make us, Jesus did not redeem 
us, for such vile and sinful uses. 

****** 

" Whom shall we muster on our side in this gi-eat battle 
between liberty and slavery. Not the many. The many 
never will muster in such a cause, until they first see unequi- 
vocal signs of its triumph. 

" We don't want the many, but the true-hearted, who are 
not skilled in the weapons of carnal warfare. We don't 
want the politicians, who, to secure the votes of the south, care 
not if slavery is perpetual. We don't want the merchant, 
who, to secure the custom of the south, is willing to applaud 
slavery, and leave his countrymen, and their children, and 
their children's children, to the tender mercies of slavery 
for ever. 



340 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

" We want only one class of men for this warfare. Be 

that class ever so small, we want only those who will stand 

on the rock of Christian principle. We want men who can 

defend the right of free discussion on the ground that God 

gave it. 

" We want men who will act with unyielding honesty and 
firmness. 

" We have room for all such, but no room for the time- 
serving and selfish. We have room as well for the aged and 
decrepid warrior as for the vigorous and the young. 

"The hands that are now trembling with the weight of 
years, are the best hands in the world to grasp the shield of 
faith. These gray-haired servants of God best know how to 
move the hands that move the world. 

" We want them and such as them ; men who are acquainted 
with God, and used to God's work, and these we shall have. 
And his blessing we shall have if we are humble, and we 
cannot fail. 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 841 



EDWARD BEECHER. 

Ob, what is man, Great Maker of maDklnd I 
That Thou to him so great respect dost bear — 

That Thou adorn'st him with so bright a mind, 
Makest him a king, and e'en an angel's peer I 

Sib John Datixs. 

Edward Beecher is a close thinker, a cogent reasoner, an 
impassioned speaker. His sermons are not elegant essays, 
got up for the entertainment of his hearers. They are not 
blank verse wire-drawn into very blank prose : not pearls and 
diamonds and precious stones, all stolen except the string 
that ties them together. They are true-blue, orthodox 
sermons, full of Beecher, truth, spirit, and scripture. They 
are living, breathing, talking sermons — famous for great 
thoughts and simple words, 

Mr. Beecher is a fluent and forcible speaker, and makes 
use of the simplest (not always the purest) Saxon in his 
discourses. In his happiest mood his voice is often raised to 
a high pitch, and he soars with untiring wing higher, and 
higher still, and still higher, until his head is among the 
stars, and his face — like the countenance of Moses on the 
mountain — reflects the radiance of inspiration. He not 
unfrequently produces a thrilling effect by reiterated strokes, 



3-12 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

and by presenting epithet after epithet, figure after figure, 
fact after fact, argument after argument, appeal after appeal, 
which flow on like the waves of the sea, exciting the alarm 
of the imconverted, who have spread their sail upon the 
waters of life, without provisions or pilot, and eliciting the 
admiration of those who have, and those who hope they have, 
fair prospects for reaching the haven of rest. 

Mr. Beecher has studied mental philosophy, and is well 
versed in theology ; has considerable knowledge of the ways 
of the world, for, unlike many of his cloth, he does not deem 
it a duty to shut himself up in his study continually, for fear 
of rendering himself " too common " to excite the wonder of 
the people on the Sabbath. There are some clergymen who 
keep themselves as wild beasts are kept in a menagerie ; 
you cannot see them withont a ticket, and then you must 
keep at a respectable distance. Why, it is more diflScult to 
obtain an interview with some ministers, than it is to have a 
tete-a-tete with the Pope of Rome ! If Paul, with his hands 
hardened at tent-making, or Peter, fresh from his fishing 
tackle, were to solicit an opportunity to preach in their 
pulpits, they would give Peter and Paul such a response as 
the Pharisees of old gave them. Dr. Beecher is not one of 
that class of spiritual teachers. You will see him in the 
streets, and at the exchange, in the reading-rooms, in the 
police court, at the public meetings in Faneuil Hall and Tre- 
raont Temple. He is a sociable, accessible, generous man, 
and capital company where he is suflSciently acquainted to 
" unbend the monkish brow." It is because he mingles with 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 343 

the people tliat he is in aavance of many of his clerical 
brethren. 

But Edward Beecher, like the rest of us poor mortals, has 
faults. He often seems to attempt to work up his feelings to 
a pitch of intense excitement. Under such circumstances 
there will be noise without eloquence, extreme gesture with- 
out extreme unction. In that way he exchanges the sub- 
lime for the sledge-hammer style. He has a good share of 
moral courage. Like his brother, the " Thunderer" in Brook- 
lyn, he assails with tongue and pen, from the pulpit and the 
press, the tergiversation, the coat-turning, the mouse-ing, the 
meanness of public men, who, for laurels or lucre, basely 
betray their country with a kiss. 

The Brooklyn Beecher is almost constantly throwing shot 
and shell into the camp and court of the enemy. Some poor 
fool in his congregation became offended with him, the other 
day, because he publicly rebuked the recreancy of a promi- 
nent politician who recently betrayed his coimtry, and put a 
crown of thorns on the bleeding brow of humanity. This 
nervous simpleton put down on pajier the unpalatable senti- 
ments he could not swallow, and had them published ; and 
Sir Oracle, the editor, in all the pomp of pigmy grandeur, 
undertook to lecture H. W. Beecher on the duties of preach- 
ers ! His labors were lost ; for it does not run in the blood of 
the Beechers to be frightened at pop-guns in the arms of 
grasshoppers. Dr. Lyman Beecher, speaking of his two dis- 
tinguished sons, said, Edward fires forty-pounders, and woe 



344 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

betide the man that lie hits. Henry fires grape-shot, and kills 
the most men. 

Edward Beecher is in the zenith of his manhood. He has 
used his brains more than he has his teeth, consequently his 
head looks older than his face. His hair is now turning 
grey ; his forehead is broad and high, and indicates extraordi- 
nary intellectual power ; his eyes are large and expressive, 
and burn like meteors, when he hides himself behind the 
cross, and pleads earnestly for the welfare of men and the 
glory of God. He is one of the editors of the Congregation- 
alist, a religious journal of great merit. He is also pastor of 
the church in Salem street. At one period of his life, he waa 
President of one of the Western collefres. He is a man of 
unimpeachable purity, has a highly cultivated and strong mind, 
and is esteemed and honored in the walks of private and 
public life. Go and hear him, and he will prove, beyond 
doubt, that whatever is lovely in innocence, pure in virtue, 
good in morality, thrilling in eloquence, sublime in poetry, oj 
holy in truth, may be found in the Bible. 




Ecgravedliy J C Buttre 




■{{^d^^^zy 




OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 845 



THOMAS HART BEATON 

TuoMAS Hart Benton is a ripe scholar, a ready debater 
a brave soldier, and the ablest statesman now living in 
America. He was born in North Carolina, in 1783, and edu- 
cated at Chapel Hill College, studied law in William and 
Mary's College. In 1810, entered the U. S. Army, afterward? 
practised law in Nashville, Tennessee. Soon afterwards, 
moved to Missouri, where he edited a newspaper. In 1820, 
was elected to the U. S. Senate, and remained in that body 
until 1851. In the Senate he at once became distinguished 
for his surpassing talents. ' He was one of the chief sup- 
porters of the administrations of General Jackson and Martin 
Van Bureu. He is now a member of Congress, having 
defeated the entire army of demagogues that opposed him — 
kicking down their platforms, breaking up their caucuses, 
exposing their wire-pulling, and mocking at their nominations. 
This apostle of freedom for the south and west, has an iron 
will, indomitable resolution, and perseverance that " never sur- 
renders." 

He is a short stout person, with a magnificent head ; grey 
eyes ; Roman nose, and a face beaming with intellect. As 
a speaker, he is more argumentative than eloquent ; more phi- 
losophical than poetical. Webster, Calhoun, Clay, Benton, 

15* 



846 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

and Cass were to the U. S. Senate what the five senses are tc 
the human system. " Old Bullion " is a hero of HeEculeau 
strength, who has turned the river of reform through tho 
Augean stable of party politics in the State he represents. 



WILLIAM L. MARCY. 

William L. Marcy was born in Sturbridge, Worcester 
County, Massachusetts, December 12, 1786. After graduat- 
ing with honor at Brown University, he took up his residence 
in the city of Troy, in the State of New York, where he stu- 
died and practised law. He rendered efficient service during 
most of the war of 1812. In 1816, he was appointed recor- 
der of the city of Troy, but owing to his political relation- 
ship with Mr. Van Buren, and his opposition to Gov. Clinton, 
he was deposed from office two years afterwards. In 1821, 
he became adjutant-general of the State, and in 1823, he was 
elected Controller, when he removed to the capital of the 
Empire State, and became a member of the Albany Regency. 
In 1829, he was appointed one of the associate justices of 
the Supreme Court, but resigned that office in 1831, when he 
was elected to the United States Senate, where he remained 
two years, during which time he was elected governor of the 
State of New York. He was twice re-elected to that post of 
lienor. During Mr. Polk's administration he accepted the 
place of Secretary of War, the arduous duties of which he 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 34"} 

discharged with credit to himself and honor to his country 
He ift now Secretary of State, and is, far and away, the ablest 
man in the Cabinet. His State paper on the Koszta affair is 
one of the most profound arguments ever presented to the 
American people. It created a wonderful sensation in Europe, 
but no crowned head could find a man competent to meet his 
unanswerable logic. President Pierce could not have found 
another man within the radius of his party so perfectly qual' 
fied to be " prime minister " of the United States. 



ALFRED BUNN. 

I HAVE just retui'ned from the New Music Hall, where I 
beard a repetition of the reminiscences of a stage manager, 
from the lips of Mr. Alfred Bunn. 

Mr. Bunn is a portly man with a dull face, large round 
head, bald on the crown and thinly covered with grey hair on 
the sides. He looks, speaks, and acts like a gentleman John 
Bull. He must be nearly sixty years of age, but he is erect 
aad elastic, as most men are in the prime of life. He dresses 
in simple black, wears a huge collar that threatens to saw his 
ears off", while the points of it play peak-a-boo around 
his ample chin. A lady at my side declared that his feet were 
handsome. The gentleman is a hun who has been more than 
half baked — but those who go to hear him will be done 



348 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

brown, even thougli they be dough. Mr. Alfred Buuu hai 
been over estimated by the American press. It is all fol-de- 
rol to prate about such a man lecturing on the genius of 
Shakspeare. He has not the genius to appreciate the 
writings of the immortal bard. Twice have I listened atten- 
tively and impartially to his best efforts in his happiest 
moods, and I am not unkind nor unjust, when I pronounce 
both efforts utter failures. Not one new sentiment did he 
offer. There was not a gleam of originality in his lectures. 
What he did present, has been presented a thousand times 
before, and a thousand times better. Then his voice is thick 
and hazy, so that you cannot understand much that he says. 
While you look at him you seem to be listening to a voice 
from one of the ante-chambei-s, and when he quotes 
Shakspeare, he spoils the passage by the theatrical and 
forced gestures which accompany his quotations. Ho 
abounds in puns, quips, quirks, jokes, bon mots, and 
anecdotes ; and if you do not laugh at them, you certainly 
must laugh to see him laugh at them himself — besides, he 
has been the manager of the very theatre where Garrick and 
Sheridan amused an empire, and he has been personally 
acquainted with Lamb, and Smith, and Matthews, and has 
had large experience in London Life. I have no doubt he is 
an agreeable companion, lighting up the social circle with the 
sunshine of his goodnature. As the manager of a play 
house, I venture the remark, that he was judicious, liberal, 
and honorable. Mr. Bunn said that one of the admirers of 
the genius of Shakspeare, wrote in a legible hand over a 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 34ft 

glass case containing the works of the great Poet, the follow 
ing notice. To Authors, " Thou shalt not steal." To Crltica 
and Commentators, " Thou shalt not bear false witness 
against thy neighbor." To Actors, " Thou shalt do no mur- 
der." 

Since the foregoing was written, this " hot cross bun " has 
published a volume, in which he has caricatured some and 
flattered others. A cotemporary speaking of Bunn's sketch 
of Moses Kimball, says : — 

"We apprehend that should Mr. Bunn again visit the 
'Little Yankee Theatre,' he will be served worse than he 
was by Macready, at Drury Lane, a few years ago. ' Smith, 
the box-oflSce feller,' doubtless would assist the ' lusty looking 
fellow,' Kimball in a boot demonstration. 

" Mr. Bunn's book is a mere record of ' hotel-bills,' vain- 
glorious accounts of his lectures, flippant anecdotes, and use- 
less descriptions. What is new in it is not true, and what is 
true is not new. As we last week hinted, the story of his 
intercourse with Mr. Kimball, of the Museum, is a fabrication 
from beginning to end ; the best of it is, he puts the genuine 
cockney dialect into Kimball's mouth." 

Here is the sketch : — 

" 'Take a seat,' said he ; 'I'm d — d if I ain't glad to see 
yer ; heard a deal on yer ; read all yer works, and so I'll tell 
yer how I've got along.' 

" When I observed that I had but a few minutes to stay, 
he replied — 

" ' D — n that ; it won't take yer long. I was formerly a 



350 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

merchant, and made bad affairs on it ; but seein' a way o 
gettin' on agin' I started fresh ; first of all at Gleason's, now 
the pictur' gallery ; saw a better chance, and got a feller to 
build the Museum — my own idea. Barnum copied after me. 
I could ttll yer many things, how I hit, and how I missed ; 
but the first great " go " was the " Temperance Reform " 
piece ; I made a sort of " Tom and Jerry " affair on it ; lug- 
ged into the piece a young fellow, a quiet, modest person at 
starting, but who turned out a h — 11 of a drunkard ; and then, 
I had a sort of Logic man to go about with 'un, just to try 
and keep 'un in order, and a Yankee chap to make some fun. 
We put the thing together among ourselves ; and I made 
Smith my manager — he's a capital feller, though he can't 
act ; but anything '11 — so I made Smith play the hero. 

" ' In order to create a proper feeling among the sober 
classes, I loaned about fifteen black coats, bought as many 
white chokers, and dressed up fifteen fellers in 'em, to look 
like parsons, and put 'em in the most conspicuous part of the 
house ; and thus we managed to hook in all the clergy and 
Christian soft-mouths. The piece drew all h — 1 ; we played 
it sometimes four times a day — on Christmas Day we 
played it six times, beginning at nine in the morning.' " 

No one who knows Mr. Kimball will believe this, nor Avhat 
follows. We omit the jirofanity which he puts into the 
manaofer's mouth : — 

" Here I rose to take my leave. ' Wait a minute — I'll tell 
yer what I did wi' yer ! That 'Bohemian Gal' o' yourn — ■ 
didn't we go ahead wi' her ? I kept in all the situations, 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 351 

Bent the music to smash, threw in a couple of Dromios for my 
low comedians, and away we went like fun !' 

" Wfc literally shrieked with laughter when he added : ' Ay 
and I shall do the same with your Enchantress, if I can pick 
up a couple of funny chaps.' 

" I naturally asked him how much he paid per annum for 
his literature, when he answered : ' About twelve and a half 
cents every packet that arrives. I get all the last pieces from 
England — the cheap editions as Lacy publishes ; and as soon 
as they come to hand, I and Smith, and the box-oflBce feller, 
iet to work, and lick a bad piece into good shape in no 
time !' " 



PETER CARTWRIGHT. 

The great Western preacher has arrived and is now 
searching: the well-thumbed Bible for his text. Quite a 
number of distinguished divines are present. TIio preacher 
looks like a backwoodsman, whose face has been bronzed 
at the plough. His black hair, straggling seven ways 
for Sunday, is slightly tinged with the frost of age. A 
strip of black silk is twisted around his neck, and a shirt col- 
lar, scrupulously clean, is turned down over it. He is of ordi- 
nary size, dresses plainly, and looks like a man perfectly frea 
from aftectation. In a ftdtering voice he reads a hymn. The 
choir wed the words to sweet and solemn music, a ferveni 
prayer goes up on the wings of faith — another hymn is read 



352 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

and sung — tlie 12th verse of the 11th chapter of Matthew it 
selected for his text. Now the old pioneer preacher, who has 
waded swamps, forded rivers, threaded forests, travelled with 
Indians, fought with bears and wolves, preached in the woods 
and slept in the field or on the prairie at night, is standing 
before us. Look at him, ye gentlemen with white neckcloths 
and black coats, who ride in carriages over smooth roads to 
supply churches with cushioned pews and soft benches to 
kneel on. How would you like to labor for nothing among 
wild beasts, and board yourselves, in a climate where the ague 
shakes the settlers over the grave two-thirds of the year ? 
Would you exchange your fat livings, and fine palaces, and 
unread libraries for black bread and dry venison, a log hut 
and the society of bears and blue-racers? God bless the 
brave, wise, and good men to whom we are so much indebted 
for the blessings we enjoy. 

He says he would make an apology if he thought it 
would enable him to preach better, for he is afflicted with a 
severe cold. " Some folks," said he, " say I am fifty years 
behind the age. God knows," he continued, " I am willing to 
be a thousand behind such an age. Religion is always of age, 
and can talk and run without stilts or silver slippers." He 
concluded an able and interesting discourse, which elicited 
undivided attention, with the following fact. " During a 
splendid revival of religion at the west, a young preacher, 
raanufectured in one of your theological shops out here, 
came to lend a helping hand. I knew he could not handle 
Methodists' tools without cutting his fingers, but he was very 



1 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 353 

oflScious. Well, we had a gale, a Pentecostal gale, and 
sinners fell without looking for a soft place, and Christians 
fought the devil on their knees. Well, this little man would 
tell those who were groaning under conviction, to be 
composed. I stood this as long as I could, and finally sent 
him to speak with a great, stout, athletic man who was 
bellowing like a bull in a net, while I tried to undo the 
mischief he had done to others. He told this powerful man 
to be composed, but I told him to pray like thunder — ^just at 
that instant, the grace of God shone in upon his soul and he 
was so delirious with delight, he seized the little man in his 
hands and holding him up, bounded like a buck through the 
congi-egation." 

It is impossible for the pen to do justice to this fact. The 
speaker moved us all to tears and smiles at the same moment 
while he said what few men should venture to say. 

The subject of this sketch once put up at the Irving 
House, N. Y., (if I am correctly informed) and when he 
wished to retire at night, one of the waiters lighted him to a 
room near the roof of that mountain of marble and mortar. 

" How shall I find the way back ?" inquired the preacher. 

" Oh just ring the bell and we will show you," said the 
waiter. 

By the time the waiter reached the bar-room, tingle, tingle 
went the bell, the waiter climbed five or six flights of stairs 
and asked what was wanted. 

"Show me the way down," said Mr. Cartwright. The 
waiter did so. " Now show me the way up again ;" he did so. 



354 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

but he had scarcely reached the reception room when the bell 
rang again. This time the landlord went up stairs to see 
what the matter was. 

" I want a broad-axe," said the preacher. 

" What do you want with a broad-axe ?" inquired thp 
astonished landlord. 

" I want to blaze my way down stairs," was the cool reply. 

Tlie landlord took the hint and gave the frontier preacher 
a room on the first floor. 

A foul-mouthed infidel once attacked him on board of a 
boat on the Western waters. Mr. Cartwright submitted 
quietly to his profanity, vulgarity and obscenity for a long 
time. Finally, he approached the gaseous sceptic with a stern 
face, and with a voice of a stentor said, " if you do not take 
back what you have said, I will baptize you in this river in 
the name of your father the devil." 

The infidel at once apologized and saved himself a duck- 
ing. 

The other day some member of the Conference suggested 
that some act should be done out of courtesy. This 
announcement brought the old gentleman to his feet — and he 
said, " I do not know what you gentlemen at the East think 
of courtesy, but we out West, who were born in a cane-brake 
— cradled in a gum-tree — and who graduated in a thunder 
Btorm, don't think much of modern etiquette." 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. gSf, 



ANSON BURLINGAME. 

Hon. Anson Burlingame was born iu 1822. When a 
mere child he was sent to the Far West, where he remained 
many years. He was educated at the Branch University of 
Michigan, and studied law at Cambridge. It was his intention 
to return to the broad, free West, but being susceptible of the 
tender passion, he was detained by a beautiful, accomplished 
and wealthy lady, the daughter of Hon. Isaac Livermore, 
Cambridge, to whom we are indebted for such a rare acqui- 
sition to New England society. 

Mr. Burlingame is probably the truest representative we have 
cf the " Young America,^'' being enterprising, eloquent, pro- 
gressive, persevering, industrious, and independent. A 
speech he made in Faneuil Hall, when he was stumping the 
district for Congress, abounds in thrilling bursts of eloquent 
patriotism, the reading of which without the kindling soul of 
the speaker, even moves the blood like the blast of a trumpet. 
In alluding to the rendition of Sims, I can only quote a sen- 
tence or two; he remarks: "It does not pay, I submit, to put 
our fellow citizens under practical martial law, to beat the 
drum in our streets, to clothe our temples of justice m 
chains, and to creep along by the light of the morning star 
over the ground wet with the blood of Crispus Attucks, tha 
noble colored man who fell in King street, before the mus- 



356 CRATOK SKETCHES, AND 

kets of tyranny, away in the dawn of our Revolution; creep 
by Faneuil Hall, silent and dark ; by the Green Dragon, whera 
that noble mechanic, Paul Revere, once mustered the sons of 
liberty; within sight of Prospect Hill, where was first unfurled 
the glorious banner of our country ; creep along with funeral 
pace, bearing a brother, a man made in the image of his God, 
— not to the grave — Oh, that were merciful, for in the grave 
there is no work and no device, and the voice of a master never 
comes — but back to the degradation of a slavery which kills 
out of a living body an immortal soul. [Great sensation.] 
Oh, where is the man now who took part in that mournful 
transaction, who would wish, looking back upon it, to avow it? 
It did not make a President, it did not give a tariff, it did not 
increase the business of Boston a single dime." 

In speaking of the importance of public improvements, he 
pays the following glowing and merited compliment to the 
West: 

" The necessity of these improvements we have in the great 
loss of property every year, and oh, if the dead could speak — 
if those who have gone beneath the turbulent waters of the 
Mississippi, and the stormy lakes, could give their testimony, 
what evidence should we have of their necessity ! The "West 
has been neglected in this respect. When its forests blazed 
with battle fires, when the scythe of death hung upon its bor- 
ders, it received but grudging aid ; but still its sons have been 
loyal ; they have met every trial and every danger without 
repining ; and when their country, which had neglected them, 
was assailed, seeing in her but the stern mother they should 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 357 

cherish, they were the first in the field, and under the gallant 
Jackson and Taylor, and Harrison and Scott, they crowded 
the way to death as to a festival." 

Here is an extract which forcibly reminds one of the style 
which characterises the school of Young America. " My hope 
is that I may live — and I believe I shall, to see the day when 
no foreign drum-beat shall be heard on the American conti- 
nent [great applause] ; when the feet of no foreign soldier shall 
tread its sacred soil [renewed cheers] ; when no man will have 
to say on what particular point he dwells, to indicate his 
nationality ; but when the proud title of American citizen shall 
be an assurance all over the world that he is a member of this 
Western Republic, so that its gorgeous banner shall wave its 
protection over him, not only on the shores of the distant 
Pacific, in the delta of the Mississippi, on the coral reefs of 
Florida, but from the bastions of Quebec, in the Bay of Cha- 
leur, on the banks of the Chaudiere, the St. Lawrence, and the 
Ottawa." The following impromptu remarks have been much 
admired. He was speaking of Mr. Webster, when some one 
in the audience said, " Mr. W. is ill." " My friend exclaims, Mr. 
Webster is ill. I am sorry to hear it. Indeed my soul was 
saddened this afternoon when there came tidings from Marsh- 
field that soon the angel of death might flutter his dark wing 
over the mansion of the great New England statesman. 
[Sensation and deep silence.] The cares of life are over for 
him ; the hurly burly of this night, in the streeUs of Boston, 
and the political storm now raging over the country, will not 
disturb his lolemn reflections. I pause at the bedside of death, 



358 • CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

No word shall escape my lips here to-night to wound on6 
friend of his." [Increased sensation.] 

The indignant pathos of the following is unexcelled by any 
equal number of words in our language. 

" I ask you if glorious Rantoul did more than this ? Did he 
more than differ from his party on that single question of the 
Fugitive Slave Bill ? Was he not hunted from convention 
to convention even unto premature death, and even now his 
vile assassins drive their daggers deep down into his new 
made grave ? But, thank God, his lofty spirit is beyond the 
reach of their miserable malice, and his reputation is in the 
hands of those who loved him while living, and who cherish 
his memory now he is gone." 

The spirit of Young America breathes again in this quotation 
from Mr. Burlingame's Northampton speech. 

" We, the sons of the Pilgrims, who are knolled to church 
from the cradle to the grave — who drink in learning and 
liberty with the air and the light — who hew through moun- 
tains ; chain the brawling rivers, and curb the whelming ocean 
itself; it is expected that we are to leave our grand employ- 
ments, and put ourselves under the command of negro-drivers, 
who cannot sit at an honorable planter's table, and that we 
will chase men, women, and children over the graves of our 
fathers." 

Although Mr. B. does not court the Muses, they are evidently 
in love with him, indeed there is a rich vein of poetry running 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 359 

through all his lectures and speeches. What can be more 
beautiful and poetical than the following gem taken from an 
oration delivered in New London, Connecticut. 

" Mr. Webster is the only survivor of that illustrious trio of 
Btatesmen, 

Who shook the nation through their lips, and blazed 
Till vanquished Senates trembled as they praised. 

" One sleeps this beautiful day, in the sweet shade of the 
magnolia's blossoms — his great heart is still, and quenched is 
the light of his glorious eye for ever. Another and fit companion 
of the great South Carolinian fell but yesterday on the field of 
his fame, and now, cold and dead, is borne on his bier through 
a weeping nation, back to the generous soil of old Kentucky, 
there to sleep the sleep that knows no waking. The orator, 
the chivalric gentleman, and noble friend, is beyond the reach 
of malice or of praise — never again shall he rouse us with his 
bugle blasts, nor melt us into tenderness by the touching mel- 
ody of his voice. And he, of the imperial intellect, 

' With tLo Athenian's glowing style, and Tully's iu-e,' 

wanders, companionless and alone, by the deep sea he loves 
so well — gazing, with his great eyes, toward ' that undis- 
covered country, from whose bourne no traveller returns.' 
Oh ! long may he live — and may the refreshing breezes fan 
his brow and bring back the roses of health to his fading 
cheeks. 

" I refer thus to these great Americans, not to conciliate 



360 



CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



their friends — not as a partizan ; — no ! no ! — let tlie bugle* 
of party this day sound a truce — but in obedience to the 

' Echoes that start, 
When memory plays an old tune on the heart,' 

I could not better illustrate the glory of our institutions than 
by reference to these great men, their noblest offspring." 

I cannot do justice to the young man's eloquence within the 
narrow limits of such a sketch as this, for I might quote a 
volume of beautiful extracts without exhaustinof the material. 

The Hon. Anson Burlingarae is about five feet eight inches 
in height, and well formed ; has dark brown hair, usually 
brushed smooth as the wing of a bird ; broad, white forehead, 
indicating strength of intellect ; light-gi-ey magnetic eyes 
and fair complexion ; is naturally gentle and generous, with 
impulse and intellect pretty evenly balanced. He possesses the 
true vivida-vis of eloquence. His style is what may be termed 
poetical, and yet he displays a good degree of terseness and 
conciseness ; is sparing of uniting particles and introductory 
Dtrases, usually employs the simplest forms of construction. 
No young man of his age in New England has appeared before 
the masses so frequently as he. No man of his years has a 
sunnier prospect before him. 

I have elsewhere said that Mr. B. is a poet. I do not charge 
him with perpetrating verses, but there are poetic pearls glit- 
tering here and there in all his public efforts. The ethereal 
tone and harmonious construction of his sentences, the strange 
imaginings that make fancy mount upward on her rainbow- 
tintod pinions — show that ideality sits close by the throne of 



OITF-MANO TAKINGS. 36^ 

reason, and reigns conjointly with causality over the realm of 
intellect. His designs are never clumsy, his pictures are nevei 
coarse ; his opinions, however unpopular, are never ofFensivelv 
thrust before his opponents, although he is known to be an 
unflinching advocate of freedom, an uncompromising hater of 
slavery. He can be mild " as honey dew or the milk of para- 
disc," or vehement and volcanic as though his veins were filled 
with lightning. His chief fault consists in an over sensitive- 
ness with respect to the opinions of others, though he is always 
true in the trial hour. What does the multitude think and 
say about me ? Shall I perpetrate an offence against my friend 
by adopting and adhering to such a set of sentiments ? — are 
questions that may never have been stereotyped into words 
upon his lips, but the writer is much mistaken if they have 
not weighed heavily upon his heart. As he grows older, he 
will become wiser, and learn to lightly estimate the hastily 
formed views of the multitude or the mob. For the plaudits 
of the people to-day, may be exchanged for the " crucify him" 
of to-morrow. Mr. B. is a candidate for congressional honors, 
and ere many years he will be rewarded with a seat in the 
highest council chamber of our country. He has already been 
elected to the Massachusetts Senate, from the great county of 
Middlesex, receiving about twelve thousand votes. He was the 
youngest member of the senate. He now enjoys th honor of 
having been elected according to the, borough sys em of 
Ei;gland, out of the place of his residence, as was Hon. Charles 
Sumner, R. H. Dana, junior, and a very few others, to a seat in 

the Convention to revise the Constitution of the State. I will 

16 



362 



CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



conclude this sketch with the following beautiful extract, taken 
from his celebrated speech delivered at the State Convention 
at the city of Worcester. It speaks for itself, and needs no 
comments from my pen. 

" And now, thanking you for the kind manner in which you 
have listened to me, I must take my leave. [' Go on ! go on !'] 
No ! I must not go on. There are worthier here who should 
speak ; to them I yield — happy indeed that I have witnessed 
this day. My heart is warmer for it. My step shall be freer 
and prouder. I shall take away in my memory the melody 
of the eloquence I have heard, and the light of the faces I have 
seen. [Cheers.] I shall go, determined to do in the future, 
all I can for the great cause we have at heart — to struggle for 
the true glory of our country, ever mindful that though it has 
the sin of slavery upon it, it is still the freest in the world ; 
yes, the freest in the world. My feet have trodden the soil of 
old England, in whose air no slave can breathe. I have tra 
versed the warlike fields of Germany and France — have stooo 
in the home of the glacier, and gazed down with full hearl 
upon the first altare of Liberty ; and heard the cannon of 
tyranny thunder from San Angelo in the land of the old Roman 
eagles. But nowhere did I find so free a people, and so happy 
a people, as in this my own, my native land. [Great enthusi- 
asm.] And my earnest hope is, that the time may soon come, 
when the sun, Avliich is now dipping its broad rim behind yon 
western hills, in all this land — from north to south, from sea 
to sea — shall not " rise upon a master, or set upon a slave.* 
[Tremendous applause.] 




^i'^TCi'by J.C.Buttre 



••/ 



863 OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 



GEOilGE LAW. 

In sketching the celebrated George Law, I am tempted tc 
indulge in alliteration, at the expense of the rules of rhetoriC; 
but that is of little consequence, since I am writing off-hand 
takings and not elaborate essays. George Law, then, is the 
Titan of traders, the colossus of contractors — the mastodon of 
men. He is upwards of six feet in height, and of perfect pro- 
portions, with physical strength to match his Herculean frame. 
This American Anak has not only the power of a giant and 
the voice of a Stentor, but the eye of an eagle and the heart of 
a lion. 

He has vital energy enough for a village of ordinary men ; 
and had he lived in the days of the Ancient Romans or Britons 
he would have been crowned king. See how he sends out 
armies to level the hills and fill up the vales, and pave our 
roads with iron. See how he scatters steamboats over our 
waters. There is nothing small about the man, his plans are 
great, his conceptions vast, his contracts immense, his fortune 
princely — even his oaths are plump and unctuous with energy. 
As Samson carried away the gates of Gaza and afterwards 
whipped the Philistines, so he would take up the gates of 
Cuba and slay the Spaniards with the javr-bones of filibustering 
asses. 

Like Thor the thunderer he makes his dent whereA'er he 
strikes, for he has force of intellect as well as bodily strength, 



364 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

and a generous heart beats in his broad chest. America owea 
much of her fame and wealth to such men. He is now in 
the prime of life, and having an iron temperament and a vast 
field in which to exert his incomparable enterprise, we wish 
him long life, and hope that his shadow may never be less 



DR. JOHN W. FRANCIS. 

Dr. J. W. Francis, one of the most distinguished physicians 
in the city of New York, is an excellent and amiable gentle- 
man of the old school, whose pleasant manners and polite 
address have won for him many friends in the various walks 
of life. He is the son of Melchior Francis, a native of Ger- 
many, who emigrated to this country shortly after the peace 
of 1783. The subject of this brief sketch graduated at Co- 
lumbia college, in 1809, when he commenced the study of 
medicine, under the supervision of the celebrated Dr. Hosack, 
and afterwards became his partner in business. He has been 
a lecturer on materia medica, professor of medicine at Rutgers 
college, afterwards of obstetrics and forensic medicine, and was 
the first president of the New York Academy of Medicine. 
His medical works have earned for him a world-wide reputa- 
tion. For forty years he has been actively engaged in the 
duties of his profession ; yet amid the incessant toils of his 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. ?jGh 

laborious vocation, be bas found time to prepare admirabla 
lectures on various topics. His name is identified witb tbe 
history of tbe Empire City, and be is far and away tbe most 
conspicuous man tbere of bis profession. A municipal con- 
vocation or a public demonstration involving tbe present or 
prospective^ interests of tbe city would not be called witbout 
consulting bim, and bis absence from sucb a gatbering would 
be noticed and deplored by bis vast army of friends. 



DOCTOR s. n. cox. 

Doctor Cox, tbe Christian gentleman wbom tbe most devo- 
ted Christians delighted to honor, tbe mighty man whose praise 
was in all the churches — ventured to speak and write against 
American sins. At this time Doctor Cox was among bis 
cotemporaries (a few excepted) what Saul was among the 
Hebrews, a head and shoulder tbe tallest, and tbe pulpit 
was a proper pedestal for sucb a noble statue. His sermons 
were sparkling witb truth, beauty, and poetry. He seemed 
equally at home, at Parnassus, or Lebanon, or Calvary. His 
words bad wings of fire and eyes of flame. Eloquence laughed 
in his humor and sobbed in bis pathos. " The cross was always 
seen at the painted window of bis imagination." He was the 
people's preacher, tbe defender of tbe down-trodden, a brigbt 
ligbt on a golden candlestick. But where is be now ? His 
late sermon in defence of tbe lower law bas tbe gloss of silki 



366 CRAYON SKETCHES, ANC 

while in reality it is more than half cotton. Is he so tired of 
his former eloquence that he eats his own words ? Has human- 
ity fewer claims now than it had ten years ago ? Has the truth 
undergone a radical change. No, no. The mob said great is 
Diana, and the Doctor said so she is. He saw there was some 
weight in the arguments that broke his church windows. He 
once identified himself with the friends of freedom ; he now 
turns his back upon them, and is numbered with those who go 
down to the South. At the World's Religious Convention, 
he was pre-eminently distinguished for his world-wide sym- 
pathy — his Christian magnanimity — his soul-stirring elo- 
quence — his heaven-inspired zeal, and he would have been 
welcomed >.o any Protestant pulpit in England ; now, many 
Evangelical churches in England are closed against him. 
Why did he strip off his laurels and sacrifice so much on such 
an altar? 

He became the Pastor of a wealthy church, in the city of 
Brooklyn ; that church embraces some who are related by 
commerce and consanguinity to the South. These men got 
on the blind side of their minister, and made him believe the 
Union was in danger ; so he stopped saving souls and went to 
saving the Union, and wretched work he made of it. His 
effort was a failure. His heart was not in it. He has too 
much light in his brain, and too much grace in his heart, to 
do his talents justice, when he assails the "higher law." 
With regard to the Doctor's style, it is more radiant than 
profound — it has more glitter than depth — besides he makes 
an egotistical display of his Greek and Latin. He lacks 



OFF-HAND Takings. 367 

concentrativeness, and cannot reason acutely and consecu- 
tively. His work entitled Quakerism not Christianity, was a 
weakling at its birth, and never will be able to run alone. I 
doubt if it has reached a second edition. He sometimes 
preaches in blank verse, and since he is not John Milton, his 
sermons sound better than they read. Doctor Cox is upwards 
of sixty years of age — a noble, dignified looking man — with 
a magnificent head, and eyes of starlike brilliance. He speaks 
rapidly, notwithstanding an impediment, and in bis palmiest 
days he spoke with so much force, he seemed sometimes to 
split the words in which he clad his thoughts. Few men 
have uttered so many brilliant thoughts as he ; many of his 
wise sayings have passed into proverbs. He has more than 
a common store of originality — extraordinary power of elo- 
quence, compresses a great deal of meaning into a few words, 
but he is not a metaphysician. He is a comet of the largest 
magnitude, sweeping through the heavens, and not a fixed 
star. He is remarkable for his excellent social qualities — a 
great favorite with those with whom he is intimately acquain- 
ted. 



3fi8 rnivoN SKETOTIES. AND 



FREEMAN iiUi^T. 

The other day I called to see a friend, and found him con- 
versing with the indefatigable Freeman Hunt, the enterprising 
editor of the Merchant's Magazine. The thought immediately 
occurred to me that he deserved a sketch. Mr. Hunt is one 
of the most persevering and energetic men in this country. 
Pi'ior to the publication of that indispensable organ of commer- 
cial news, he was poor and involved in debt, but the idea occur- 
red to him, that a first class monthly, devoted to the interests 
of merchants, traders, &c., was needed — that it would be appre- 
ciated and sustained by the mercantile men of our country. 
He did not flood the land with promising prospectuses — nor 
cover the walls of our public buildings with huge handbills, 
announcing his intentions to the gaping and gazing crowd, who 
avail themselves of the lazy leisure at their disposal, to read 
such gaseous productions ; but like a man of forecast and 
action, he went to work, not by proxy, sending mealy-mouthed 
agents here and there, but personally, and visited many of the 
merchant princes of New York, to whom he explained in a 
manly and straightforward manner what he designed to do. 
They, like wise and generous men, as many of them are, 
seconded his resolution and unhesitatingly endorsed his sub- 
».cription list. When he had made a good beginning in the 



OFF-HAJ<D TAKINGS. 369 

Empire city, he visited Boston, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and 
other cities, where his exertions were crowned with success. 
Now look at the fruit of his labor. He first originated the 
idea of starting such a journal, he next procured the list of 
subscribers requisite to sustain it, he then assumed the editorial 
management of it, and he now commands an influence of which 
a prince might well be proud, and has an income sufficient to 
satisfy the demands of his constantly increasing business. Mr. 
Hunt is a man, a noble man, a reliable man, who never forgets a 
friend, and never fails to recognise him, whenever or wherever 
he meets him ; for this reason, as well as many others, the writer 
is glad to see him prosper. Mr. Hunt is not only a very ener- 
getic and determined man, but a man of exquisite sensibilities 
and cultivated taste. 

His statistics of trade show that he possesses unfaltering 
ndustry — his elaborate essays prove that he wields the pen of 
a powerful writer. No well appointed counting-room should be 
without his invaluable magazine ; indeed, his list of subscribers 
and corps of contributors will not suffer in comparison with 
those of any in the United States or the world. He is pre- 
eminently a practical man, of broad understanding, a wise 
knowledge of mankind, and great tact, governed by extraordi- 
nary talents. 

N. P. Willis, speaking of him, says: 

"Hunt has been glorified in the Hong-Kong Gazette, i? 
regularly complimented by the English mercantile authorities, 
has every bank in the world for an eager subscriber, every 
consul, every ship-owner, and navigator; is filed away at 

16* 



370 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

authority in every library, and thought of in half the countries 
of the world, as early as number three, in their enumeration of 
distinguished Americans ; yet who seeks to do him honor in 
the city he does honor to ? 

"The Merchant's Magazine, though a prodigy of perseverance 
and industry, is not an accidental development of Hunt's ener- 
gies. He has always been singularly sagacious and original in 
devising new works and good ones. He was the founder of 
the first Lady's Magazine, of the first Children's Periodical ; 
he started the American Magazine of Useful and Entertaining 
Knowledge, compiled the best known collection of American 
anecdotes, and is an indefatigable writer — the author, among 
other things, of "Letters about the Hudson." Hunt was a 
play-fellow of ours in round-jacket days, and we have always 
looked at him with a reminiscent interest. His luminous, 
eager eyes, as he goes along the street keenly bent on his errand, 
would impress any observer with an idea of his genius and 
determination, and we think it is quite time his earnest head 
was in the engraver's hand, and his daily passing by a mark for 
the diffite monstrari 

I have taken the liberty to copy from the writings of Edgar 
A. Poe the following sketch of his personal character and 
appearance. 

" He is earnest, eager, combining, in a very singular man 
ner, general coolness and occasional excitability. He is a 
true friend, and the enemy of no man. His heart is full of 
the warmest sympathies and charities. No one in New York 
is more universally popular. He is about five feet, eight inches 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 



371 



in height, well proportioned, complexion dark florid ; forehead 
capacious, chin massive and projecting, indicative (according to 
Lavater and general experience), of that energy which is, in 
fact, the chief point in his character ; hair light brown, very 
fine, of a web-like texture, worn long and floating about the 
face ; eyes of wonderful brilliancy and intensity of expression ; 
the whole countenance beaming with sensibility and intelli- 
gence. He is married, and about thirty-eight years of age." 

Poe's sketch was written about six or seven years ago, and 
Mr. Hunt must have grown so much older, although there are 
no indications of it in his face or form. He is now in the prime 
of life, ripe with experience, with his natural force unabated, aa 
the elasticity of his step, the vigor of his pen, the magic of 
his voice, and the magnetism of his countenance bear ample 
testimony. 



372 CRAYON SKETCHES. AND 



B. P. SHILLABER. . 

Notwithstanding the popularity of Mrs. Partington, and 
the deep interest manifested by the masses in her present and 
prospective happiness, there are but few individuals who have 
an accurate conception of her personal peculiarities, her mode 
of dress, her physiognomy, her education, her habits of life. 

She has been represented -as an antique specimen of the 
feminine gender in petticoats, Avith a pinch of snuff between 
her thumb and finger, a pair of spectacles astiide her nose, and 
a mouse-colored parasol in her hand. Now you and your 
readers will undoubtedly be surprised to hear, that this famous 
hero, I would say sAero, wears pantaloons instead of petticoats 
— a vest instead of a visite — brogans instead of bootees — and 
a Kossuth hat in the place of a "kiss-me-quick." Indeed there 
appears to be more of the masculine than the feminine in her 
dress, and in her address also. Without any desire to test the 
credulity of the reader, I assure him, that I have seen the veri- 
table Mrs. Partington late at uight, in company with some of 
our city editors, perambulating the streets. You know enough 
about the moral character of such men, to form a fair estimate 
of her standing in that community without any hints from me. 
She smokes, drinks soda-water, wears men's clothes, and seems 
fond of the society of men. In politics, she is on the Post,'^ 
instead of the fence. She used to carry a handsome Carpet 

• One of the editors of the Boston Daily Post. 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 373 

Bag,* filled with beautiful things, dry-goods, and jewels, 
besides spicy things and sharp things too numerous to name. 

It is pretty generally known, hereabouts, at least, that B. P. 
Shillaber, a practical printer in this city (Boston), is the author 
of the quaint, odd, and humorous sayings attributed to Madame 
Partinjjton. 

Mr. Shillaber has, within a few years, won a reputation which 
some lovers of notoriety would give a dukedom to possess. 
His strange speeches have been copied in all portions of our 
country; they have crossed the sea and kindled smiles on faces 
in foreign lands. There is a wise and humane blending of 
humor, philosophy, and benevolence, in the short utterances to 
which this writer has given vitality, which entitle him to a 
position among those who contribute largely to the fund of 
human happiness. 

Mr. Shillaber was born in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, 
July 12th, 1814. His parents were poor but respectable. 
They educated their son according to their ability, and per- 
mitted him to enter a printing-office at the age of sixteen. In 
1832, he paid his first visit to Boston. He did not dream that 
he could write anything save a weekly letter to his parents. 
In 1847, however, he made his debut with the sobriquet of 
Mrs. Partington. Soon after that, he awoke one fine mornintr 
and found himself famous. Recently a volume of his sayings 
and songs has been published, to which I refer the reader for 
specimens of his style. I have room for only one or two para- 
graphs of a later date than the book. 

• Formerly edited the Carpet Bag. 



374 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

" I don't see," said Mrs. Partington, yesterday, as Ike came 
home from school, and threw his books into one chair and his 
jacket into another, and his cap on the floor, saying that he 
didn't get the medal; "I don't see, dear, why you didn't get 
the meddle, for certainly a more meddlesome boy I never knew. 
But no matter; when the adversary comes round again, you'll 
get it." What hope there was in her remark for him ! And 
he took courage and one of the old lady's doughnuts, and sat 
wiping his feet on a clean stocking that the dame was prepa- 
ring to darn, that lay by her side. 

"How do you do, dear?" said Mrs. Partington, smilingly, 
shaking hands with Burbank, in the Dock square omnibus, as 
he held out his five dexter digits towards her. " Fare, ma'am," 
said he, in reply to her inquiry. "Well, I'm shore I'm glad 
of it, and how are the folks at home ?" " Fare, ma'am," con- 
tinued he, still extending his hand. The passengers were inte- 
rested. "How do you like Boston?" screamed she, as the 
:)mnibus rattled over the stones. "Fare, ma'am," shouted he, 
(vithout drawing back his hand; "I want you to pay me for 
four ride." " Oh," murmured she, " I thought it was some one 
that knowed me," and rummaged down in the bottom of her 
ridicule for a ticket, finding at last five copper cents tied up in 
the corner of her handkerchief — the "last war" handkerchief, 
with the stars and stripes involved in it, and the action of the 
Constitution and Guerriere stamped upon it. But the smile 
she had given him at first was not withdrawn — there was no 
allowance made for mistakes at that counter — and he went 
out, with 1 lighter heart and a heavier pocket to catch t'othei 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS ;i75 

Mr. Shillaber is a true poet, and were he to write less and 
commune with nature more, he would soon rank in the first 
class of American poets. The following sonnet is worthy ot 
Wordsworth instead of "Wideswarth," (the nom de plumi 
he recently assumed). 

TO AN OLD CANNON BALL. 

" Grim messenger of war, before me lying. 

No more at thee will mortal cheek turn pale, 
No more wilt thou with hostile aim be flying, 

A stone of revolutionary hail ; 
As the bright sun melts up the icy rain, 

That the black clouds of summer sometimes pour ; 
So time is melting thee to dust again. 

Thou dark remainder of an iron shower ! 
Good omen this, when war's clouds clear away, 

And Peace angelic all our bosoms fills, 
That good, through strife achieved, alone doth staj , 

While rust away, in sure decay, its ills ! — 
A better fate is thine, depend upon it. 

Than rusty death — thou livest in a sonnet." 

Here is something containing less poetry, but just as much 
truth, and since this is one of the warmest days in August, 1 
w\ll copy 

A SEASONABLE SONNET, 
i^en June's hot sun pours down in fervid beams — 

In striking beams that knock a mortal down, 
Or make the perspiration flow in streams. 

In regal streams, descending from the crown — 
My mind recals a fat and jovial one, 

A jovial one that I did call my friend, 



•^ ' ^ CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

Who melted on a time 'neath such a sun, 
'Neath such a sun, just like a candle-end. 

I saw him for a moment stand alone — 
Stand all alone beneath a hat of straw ; 

A moment more and on the sidewalk stone — 
That reeking stone — my wond'ring visuals saw 

A heap of clothes, suspenders, hat and boots, 

An empty wicker flask, and twenty smoked cheroote." 

The subject of this sketch is in the prime of life, a stout, hale, 
hearty man, considerably above the common stature, with a 
plain, frank face, a full breast, an honest heart, and a head clear 
as crystal. He has dark hair, is of the bilious-nervous tem- 
perament, dresses in a careless manner. Since he has become 
an author, however, the hole in his coat elbow has disap- 
peared. 

Should the reader meet him in the street, he would take 
him for an unsophisticated backwoodsman, and not for one of 
the editors of one of the most influential journals in the United 
States. He is genial as the sunshine, and generous to a fault 
— sensitive, gallant, courteous, and urbane. 



I 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 3 7 "7 



BISHOP JAMES. 

On Sunday morning, I went to Dr. Waterbury's Church 
on Bowdoin street, to hear the justly celebrated Rev. Bishop 
James. The church, or rather the building where the church 
meets, is a modest and substantial edifice, located away 
from the noise and bustle of the business streets. The singf- 
ipg in the church is super-excellent, and the sermon delivered 
by the Bishop, was one of the best I have heard. He spoke of 
the glory of Heaven in such glowing language, and illustrated 
his theme with such appropriate and beautiful imagery, and 
sustained his theory with such unanswerable logic, I will not 
do him, nor his sermon, nor the reader injustice by attempt- 
ing to report what was so fitly spoken. When words have 
eyes, glowing with emotion, and syllables have souls, full of 
inspiration, reports will afibrd more faithful records of such 
heart-stirring sermons, than voiceless paper language can give 
at the present time. The Bishop is probably forty-five years 
of age, of the nervous-bilious temperament, is under the 
common stature, and has a womanish voice. He has a diff- 
nified and ministerial look, dresses neatly in black, with a 
white cravat. He has a pale, intellectual face ; indeed, the 
commonest observer would say his countenance indicated 
nice taste, and superior intellectual power. 



378 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



REV. MR. WADSWORTH. 

Attracted by the fame of the Rev. Mr. Wadsworth, I went 
to the Arch street Church, for the purpose of hearing him. 
In order to secure a seat, I obeyed the first summons of the 
bell, and was fortunate enough to find exactly the place that 
suited me. While waiting for the preacher, I occupied a short 
leisure by looking at the building and those who came to wor- 
ship there. The church is a plain, substantial building, well 
windowed for light during the day, and abundantly supplied 
with lamps for illumination by night. Indeed the tall lamps, 
on each side of the preacher, have the appearance of golden 
trees with branches of fire. The spacious edifice was filled 
below and above with a well-dressed, good-looking, wide-awake 
and appreciating audience. The pastor opened the services 
with a short prayer, but he spoke in such a low tone of voice, 
the sharpest ears in the nearest pews could not understand half 
the words he uttered ; then followed a beautiful psalm, which 
was better heard — that was succeeded by a hymn which was 
read monotonously, but distinctly. 

I turned around to. see the persons to whom I was indebted 
for such sweet music, and saw nothing but an ugly red curtain. 
I do not like the fastidious modesty which hides the choir from 
the congi-egation, for such voices as I heard there must coma 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 3^9 

trora " human faces divine," and to see them would not detract 
from the devotion of any worshipper. The prayer that followed 
the delightful singing was earnest, sincere, heart-moving. It 
seemed as though the pulpit was so near the throne of heaven 
the preacher was whispering at the ear of God. I remember 
the following sentence, "Running a race, fighting a battle, cut- 
ting oflF an arm, plucking out an eye, knowing nothing, fearing 
nothing, obeying nothing, loving nothing, but God." His text 
was part of the twenty-fifth verse of the sixteenth chapter of 
Luke, " Remember." He commenced in a low voice, with lit- 
tle or no gesture, with a very modest manner, a very earnest 
air, giving undoubted proof that his soul was in his sermon. 
It is quite evident that he labors hard, for every sentence shinea 
with the " beaten oil of the sanctuary." 

Being somewhat fond of alliteration, he has the art of wed- 
ding his words, so as to clothe his thoughts in their Sunday 
suits. That he is a poet of the highest order, and no second- 
rate orator, I am already convinced, for notwithstanding his 
weak, and I may add, rather husky voice (perhaps he has a 
cold to-day), he has riveted the attention of his hearers and stir- 
red the great deep of the heart. 

He warms as he proceeds in his discourse, and raises hia 
voice, and in spite of his apparent determination not to move 
a muscle, he begins to gesticulate, jerking his head backwards 
and forwards, suddenly stooping and rising, and now and then 
extending his arms. His elocution is just right for him, because 
it is natural, but it would not become any other speaker. Mr, 
Wadsworth is an orator endowed with genius ; he can deliglil 



380 CRAYON SKETCnES, AND 

the fancy, please the taste with his exquisite poetry, move the 
heart and rouse the passions with his glowing rhetoric, and con- 
vince the judgment with his irresistible logic. Now he points 
to the little grave under the sod of which sleeps "our darling" 
child; then he points to a sweet angel with its throne and harp 
and crown. Now he uncovers the pit, and scares us with its 
horrors, then he withdraws the curtain which hides Heaven 
from our sight, and shows us the golden streets and gleaming 
spires of the New Jerusalem. Now he calls a victim from the 
dark chambers of the damned, and we see him robed in a sheet 
of fire, with the undying worm on his bosom ; then he points to 
the cross which is planted in the pathway of the sinner. 

Mr. Wadsworth is a poet, an oi-ator, a sermonizer, a theolo- 
gian, a philosopher, a scholar. One of his chief faults consists 
in giving too much thought in one discourse for the common 
mind to digest. A good poem of a dozen stanzas might have 
been taken out of the discourse I heard, and then there would 
have been sufficient poetry left to light up every sentence with 
effulgent beauty. The sermon would have suited some better, 
if individual and national sins had been specified and reproved. 
In person he is of slender build, of common stature and hand- 
some figiTC. His hair is black and long, forehead full, broad 
and high, showing very large ideality, comparison, and causal- 
ity; eyebrows black, eyes expressive of benevolence, nose 
straight, mouth classically chiselled, cheeks fat, round, and 
pleasant ; complexion dark, temperament nervous-bilious. He 
wears spectacles, dresses neatly, wears no ornaments, save 
those of a meek and quiet spirit. He pronounced the benedio 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 381 

tion in a whisper. While the choir was singing the closing 
hymn, I observed that the tears flowed freely from his eyes — ■ 
honest tears — tears such as attest a man's sincerity, not crocodile 
tears for common exhitiition. In ending this brief sketch, writ- 
ten on short hotice, the reader must permit me to say, that Mr. 
Wadsworth is a man who seems to be panting with poetry 
His thoughts bloom up in spontaneous and brilliant clusters. 

He has a terse way of wedging a volume of argument into 
the interstices between his poetry and his philosophy : for 
instance : — " Do you say God cannot make a hell ? He has 
made a conscience. He has made a memory. He has made 
the soul immortal." He will never sober down, for such men 
never grow old. The flock must take care of their pastor, for 
he will not take care of himself, while he takes care of the 
flock. As the people of his charge value his life, let them see 
that he has air, and exercise, and repose ; money enough he 
will be sure of. What he needs is more physical and lesa 
mental labor. 



382 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



REV. DR. DURBIN. 

A SMALL, plain man, with a neck-cloth white as snow, and a 
coat black as a raven's feather, is sitting in the desk, supported 
on the left by the pastor of the church, and on the right by a fine- 
looking man, whose duke-like countenance is lit up with a pair 
of glowing eyes. Something extra is expected, for the congre- 
gation is punctuated with preachers, and Bishop Waugh, with 
his Calhoun cast of figure and feature, is sitting within the 
railings of the altar. Every stranger supposes the magnificent 
man on the right is the author of " Observations in Europe," 
the preacher whose praise is in all the churches ; and they will 
be pleased when that pale-faced man, with dull eyes and nar- 
row forehead, has got through with the opening ceremonies, for 
he has such a feminine voice, and such a drawling manner, and 
there is nothing prepossessing in his features, and no drawing- 
room mannerism in his gestures. He has just concluded a fer- 
vent prayer, so full of thought, and piety, and spirit, it seemed 
as though there was a telegraphic communication between the 
j^ulpit, where the preacher prayed, and the throne where God 
answers prayer. Another hymn is read in thw same monoto- 
nous manner, by the same loth-to-part lips ; and now, to the 
astonishment of the audience, that same prosy little man rises 
up to preach. Well, he has displayed nice ta*te in selecting a 




iravedtPT J C Biittre. 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 385 

part of the history of Naaman as the thesis of his discourse. 
There is a pudding-headed man, who has eaten so much break- 
fast he cannot keep awake, he thinks, under such a preacher, 
so he rests his head upon the top of the pew. In the mean- 
time the preacher proceeds, speaking extemporaneously, with 
his hands sometimes resting on the open Bible before him, and 
sometimes they are brought together in the region of the 
heart. 



S. A. DOUGLAS. 

Stephen Arnold Douglas the famous, or infamous 
United States Senator, from Illinois, and one of the most pro- 
minent politicians in tne Democratic party — and the origin- 
ator of the Nebraska Bill — is a native of Vermont ; but he 
sustains no relationship whatever to Ethan Allan, or any of 
the Green Mountain boys, whose names are crystalized in our 
country's history. He is a man of considerable ability, but 
his selfish ambition has overleaped itself, and his fall has 
rendered him a political cripple for life. 

He has been weifjhed in the balance and found wantinor in 
political integrity — wanting in his attachment to liberty — 
wanting in his loyalty to the land of his birth — wanting in 
his regard for the welfare of humanity, and wanting in his 
respect for our holy Religion. His speeches in the Senate in 
defence of the Nebraska iniquity — his eflbrts to break th« 



384 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

sacred seal of Compromise — his utter contempt for the con' 
tracts of our fathers, and his vulofar abuse of the New Enof- 
land Clergymen, furnish abundance of proof that we do not 
speak without book when we declare Douglas to be the prince 
of Demagogues. 

He is a Northern man, whose lungs inhaled the free ail 
of the verdant mountains of Vermont, but whose heart never 
imbibed the noble principles of its patriotic inhabitants. He 
purchased a plantation and stocked it with slaves, to show his 
attachment to the peculiar institution. He was instrumental 
in banishing the free blacks from the State he misrepresents, 
that he might get Southern votes. Now he would doom 
Nebraska to " everlasting shame and contempt," to obtain a 
post of honor he is totally disqualified to fill. This unhappy 
and unfortunate man is now despised by the North, and dis- 
trusted by the South ; and he richly merits the contempt of 
all mankind. Why, for a bauble he would barter the rights 
of unborn nations. That he might be the President of the 
United States, he would enslave the blacks for ever, in the 
bosom of this continent. 

If the middle name of Stephen Arnold Douglas could be 
exchanged for the last, it would be most appropriate. Fate, 
however, has given him a part of the name to which he is 
above all men living pre-eminently entitled. Although a 
man of some talent, he has nothing approximating to genius ; 
having a good memory, and opportunities for intellectual cul- 
ture, he studied industriously and rose rapidly from a cabinet 
maker's apprentice to be one of the Judges of the Supreme 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 385 

Court, and member of the United States Senate, honors of 
which he might well be proud, had he been true to freedom 
and humanity. He has not been the faithful exponent of 
liberty. He has not been a true friend to humanity. 

In person, he is short and thick, with a broad, dark face, 
hazel eyes, high cheek bones, plebeian hands and feet. He 
is by no means prepossessing, and his manners are not such 
as would become a court of fashion. In debate he is a bully, 
and very brave when he fights with men who wear white 
cravats. He is pretty sure not to pick quarrels with plucky 
men; for, although he thinks very little of the rest of mankind, 
he has a great deal of regard for himself. Of his style of 
writing and speaking, I have not much to say. It is plain, 
blunt and logical, without much depth, and with no origin- 
ality, and perfectly free fi-om elegance of diction or eloquence 
of expression. 

He has no poetry in his composition ; tyrants never are on 
terms with the Muses. Without the stature of a Vermonter, 
he claims to be the giant of the West — but if he is the Brob- 
dignag, the rest of the inhabitants must be small Liliputians — 
for Douglas is so little, he was never seen until he made the 
auction block his platform, or climbed into notice on the back 
of a negro. Contrast him with Sam Houston, his superior as 
much in mental as in physical stature. It is perfectly aston- 
ishing that Mr. Everett should have displayed the white 
feather, when this impertinent little whippersnapper assailed 
the three thousand clergymen of New England. It is a pity 
that gentleman had so little "grit," when such a famous 

n 



386 CRAYON SKETCHES, ANO 

opportunity was afforded to annihilate the anti-Nebraskiaa 
If Sumner could have assailed him, we should have heard the 
reverberation of his blows throughout the land. If Danie! 
Webster had been alive, he would have made another speech 
equal to his reply to Hayne. 

If it be true that " coming events cast their shadows 
before," then the days of Douglas are numbered — his politi- 
cal death-warrant is signed by the people's autograph — his 
political winding-sheet is woven by the hands of fate, and his 
political grave yawns to receive his remains. 



WILLIAM GILMORE SIMMS. 

William Gilmore Simms, an American poet, historian and 
novelist, is a native of South Carolina, and was born April 
I7th, 1806. In consequence of the premature death of his 
mother and the failure of his father in business, he was placed 
in charge of his grandmother in Charleston, when he was quite 
young. At first he designed to study medicine, but afterwards 
determined to read law, and he was admitted to the bar at 
the age of twenty one. 

He had practiced his profession but a short time when ho 
assumed the editorial management of a daily newspaper, in 
which he battled manfully against nullification. In this enter- 
prise his expectations were not realized, and he retired from 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 387 

the avocation of an editor under a load of pecuniary embar 
rassment. 

But he "resolved to retrieve his fortunes," and in the year 
182Y, he made his authorial debut before the public, by issu- 
ing a volume of poems. Other poems speedily followed, but 
the one which attracted most notice was "Atlantis; a story 
of the Sea." It met with a hearty reception, and elicited en- 
thusiastic encomiums from the press on both sides of the 
Atlantic. In 1833, he published his first novel, "Martin 
Faber," which was followed by "Guy Rivers," "Yemassee," 
"The Partisan," "Mellichampe," " Pelayo," " Carl Werner," 
"Richard Ilurdis," "The Damsel of Darien," "Count Julian," 
" Beauchamps," "The Kinsman," "Katharine Walton." His 
principal biographical and historical works consist of lives of 
Captain John Smith, General Marion, General Green and 
Chevalier Bayard, a "History of South Carolina." These 
works do not embrace all the productions of his versatile and 
prolific pen. He has been a member of the State Legislature, 
and has won some renown as a public speaker. His literary 
reputation procured for him the title of LL. D. He is one 
of the brightest stars in the firmament of American litera- 
ture. 

Mr. Simms has a vivid imagination, and is by no means 
deficient in artistic skill. His language is frequently faulty, 
but that is undoubtedly owing to the fact, he writes so 
much he does not take time to revise the productions of his 
pen. While he occupies a respectable rank among the poets 
of America, he stands at the head of that class of authors who 



388 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

entertain us with light literature. I have only room for the 
following specimen of his poetiy. 

Well may we sing her beauties, 

This pleasant land of ours, 
Her sunny smiles, her golden fruits, 

And all her world of flowers. 
The young birds of her forest groves, 

The blue folds of her sky. 
And all those airs of gentleness 

That never seem to fly. 
They wind about our forms at noon, 

They woo us in the shade, 
When panting from the summer heats, 

The woodman seeks the glade. 
They win us with a song of love. 

They cheer us with a dream 
That gilds our passing thoughts of life, 

As sunlight does the stream. 
And well would they persuade us now. 

In moments all too dear. 
That shiful though our hearts may be, 

We have our Eden here. 



OFF-HAND TAKINfJS. 389 



JAMES GORDON BENMTT. 

James Gordon Bennett, the editor and proprietor of the 
"New York Herald," is a native of Scotland, but he has 
been so long connected with the press in this country, he has 
become a live lion here. A few years ago, I noticed a vast 
crowd of persons in front of a fashionable hotel in a western 
city, and inquired the cause of such a convocation ; I was 
informed that James Gordon Bennett had just arrived. 
Whether he be more notorious than popular, I will not 
assume the province of determining, but will hazard the 
remark, that the people of the United States would go 
farther and give more to see him than they would to see the 
President or any member of the United States Senate. 
He has passed through various phases of literary life, having 
been reporter, sub-editor, and editor, and being now editor 
and proprietor of a paper broadly circulated all over this con- 
tinent and Europe. While it undoubtedly owes a part of its 
circulation to the surpjissing ability of its chief — it is indebted 
much to the efforts made by cotemporary journals to crush 
it, for the vast number of readers which daily devour its 
contents, Wliile many deprecate the course its editor pur- 
sues respecting the reforms of the day, they cannot fail to 
give him credit for his courage — and they must admire his 



.390 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

genius. Mr. Bennett has acquired an ample fortune ; has 
visited various jDortions of the Old World — and rumor says, 
that he recently gave his mother a handsome chateau in the 
land of song and story, where she resides. In person, he 
is tall and slender, with a "literary stoop" in his shoulders; 
his head is covered with long silvery grey hair, and his face 
hid behind a grey goatee, and moustache to match ; his eyes 
are light, with a squint in them, which fact he notices more 
than any one else. He is about fifty-five years of age ; quick 
in his movements ; and of a nervous temperament ; he 
dresses neatly ; and is very sociable and pleasant in the 
society of his friends, although his pen burns at the nib, and 
its strokes are like the stings of scorpions. 



CALEB GUSHING. 

Caleb CusHiNa and William Lloyd Garrison, were the 
principal contributors to one of the first papers published at 
Newburyport, Massachusetts. The former was a young attor- 
ney of fair talents, with a good country practice ; the latter, 
a journeyman printer of superior ability, and the anonymous 
author of some splendid essays, which were attributed to some 
of the most classical and popular writers of that period. 
Cushing was a Whig — originally, but being disappointed in 
his aspirations, he resolved not to drown himself, but to turn 
democrat ; he afterwards became a coalitionist, and now he is 



OFP-HAXD TAKINGS. 393 

a "crusher." He is a paradoxical politician. He went to 
the Mexican war and fell into a ditch, cleaned himself, went 
into office at Washington, and again returned to his wallow- 
ing in the mire. He is an ambitious man, with his eye on 
the presidential chair, and will "stick at nothing" to gratify 
his ambition. He is an accomplished scholar, familiar with 
several languages, a perfect gentleman in his address, has a 
large circle of friends and admirers, is personally handsome, 
tall, and of good mould. His late eulogy on the death of 
Vice-president King, is an eloquent and masterly production, 
abounding in pathos, and the most chaste and beautiful 
imagery. Although on the sunny side of fifty, he has been a 
judge, a Mexican general, a member of Congress, minister to 
China, and is now Attorney-General of the United States. 



JAMES WATSON WEBB. 

James Watson Webb, editor and proprietor of the " New 
York Courier and Enquirer, was for many years the Apollo 
of the press, towering like a proud patrician above the heads 
of his compeers : — 

" His fair large front and eye sublime declared 
Absolute rule, and hyacinthine locks 
Eound from his parted forelocks manly hung, — 
Clustering, but not beneath his shoulders broad." 

Even now, his natural force is unabated ; his eye has not lost 



392 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

its lustre ; his pen retains its power, and notwithstanding thfl 
fact, that his raven hair has been bleached (more by thought 
than years), he is erect and massive as a column crowned 
with snow. He is a soldier, " born to command," and wields 
the pen or the sword with equal facility. When a mere boy 
he ran away from home, afterwards entered into military life, 
and became noted for his feats of strength and activity. 
Having a constitution of iron strength, he was equal to any 
hardship he had to encounter. That he is a ready writer, 
and that his paper is the highest authority in commercial 
matters, no disinterested person qualified to judge will deny. 
He is, however, of the silver grey school, and turns a cold- 
shoulder on the political and moral reforms of this progres- 
sive age ; a fact to be deplored, since his social position, his 
commanding talents, and his vast influence with leading men 
would enable him to accomplish an incalculable amount of 
good, were he to side with the " radicals," and stop saving 
the Union. 



DOCTOR DUFFIELD. 

The Doctor is a deep thinker, a sound reasoner, a logica] 
but not an eloquent debater. His voice, face, and manner all 
denote depth, earnestness, and sincerity. His sermons have 
little poetry, but much common sense ; few striking compari- 
sons, but many straightforward truths ; they do not shine 
with ornaments, but they are sharp, and cut deeply. Dr 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 393 

DuflBeld has more judgment than fancy, more power of con- 
centration than power of origination. He never sinks down 
to mediocrity, and seldom soars to the heavenly heights of 
impassioned oratory. He has a heavy stock of goods or. 
hand, and cannot display them all at the front window ; 
indeed, he lacks taste, and is apt to show them the wrong 
side out ; I fear he is too conservative to keep pace with the 
strides of progress. He has courage, and yet like the coward 
in a duel, he chooses to fight the enemy at a distance; for 
instance, last Sabbath he attacked the tyrants of Europe, but 
let the tyrants of America go unscathed. 

The subject of this sketch is upwards of fifty years of age ; 
of medium size and stature ; wears a long, earnest, serious 
face ; has a square, not high forehead ; Roman nose ; flashing 
eyes, and aristocratical chin. He looks as though his clothes 
had been put on his person by some one else. His collar, 
unlike his creed, yields to every pressure, and his shirt bosom 
may be without spot, but is not without wrinkle or any such 
thing. His coat hangs like a bag on his back, and one 
would think he was unused to wearing such a garment ; then 
that huge gold chain, dangling against his satin vest, is out 
of place. Imagine a backwoodsman (with an intellectual 
face) fashionably dressed for the first time, and you will form 
a tolerably correct idea of the manner in which Doctoi 
Duffield appears. 



17* 



394 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



: J. R. LOWELL. 

Lowell is one of the few who has the frankness and the 
courag-e to unrobe his bosom, and let the world see his heart 
beat. He has sufficient independence to think aloud, and 
dream with his eyes open. He shines because there is light 
in his brain, and he writes because his mind is pregnant with 
thought which must be born. He has a divine call to preach 
the gospel of love and liberty, in verse ; and he does not 
grieve away the spirit of his muse by remaining mute when 
he should speak. In his L' Envoi, he says : 

"Eut if the poet's duty be to tell 
His fellow-men their beauty and their strength, 
And show them the deep meaning of their souls, 
He also is ordained to higher things ; 
He must reflect his race's struggling heart, 
And shape the crude conceptions of his age." 

He deems this the land of song ; and he looks upon the 
vast forests, broad prairies, huge rivers, lofty mountains, and 
thundering cataracts, as the poetry of nature; and yet he 
thinks the spirit of poetry does not spring from waves and 
woods, and rocks ; " her womb and cradle are the human 
heart," and man is the noblest theme for song. He proclaims 



OFF-HAND TAKIK03, 395 

with trumpet-tongue that every nation has a Messiah with a 
messaofe to man : — 



o 



" One has to teach that labor is divine ; 
Another, freedom ; and another, mind." 

The bard must " write the death-warrant of tyranny," " stab 
falsehood to the heart," " make despots tremble," " preach the 
freedom and the divinity of man and the glorious claims of 
brotherhood," without waiting for hints from nodding trees, 
and dashing waves, and fiery clouds. The magnificent poem 
from which the above extracts are taken, is his masterpiece. 
It is highly finished, full of wondrous fancy and mighty 
thought. His sonnets are the sins of his poetry ; for he has 
no laght to cramp his "genius " in one place and stretch it in 
another, on such an iron bedstead ; but since they are among 
the best to be found in our land or in our language, we 
pardon the transgressor, and say, " It is Alcibiades defacing 
the images of the gods," 

The following, addressed to that eminent and eloquenl 
reformer, "Wendell Phillips, is one of his best : — 

" He Gtood upon the world's broad threshold ; wide 

The din of battle and of slaughter rose ; 
He saw God stand upon the weaker side, 

That sank in seeming loss before its foes ; 
Many there were who made great haste and sold 

Unto the cunning enemy their swords ; 
He scorned their gifts of fame, and power and goldi, 

And underneath their soft and flowery words 



•^96 CEAYON SKETCHKS, AND 

Heard the cold serpent hiss ; therefore he went 
And humbly joined him to the weaker part, 
Fanatic named, and fool, yet well content, 
So he could be the nearer to God's heart. 
And feel its solemn pulses sending blood 
J Through all the wide-spread veins of endless good." 

Lowell lias a gi-eat heart, brimful and running over with 
irresistible humor. His Bigelow papers abound in sly strokes 
of mirth that would make a stoic shake his sides with lauo-h- 
ter. He is the Hudibras of America, and woe betide the 
unfortunate wight at whom he pokes his fun ; for, while it is 
sport to him, it is death to the subject of his sarcasm. Ho 
puts the following words into the mouth of a Yankee, when 
a man in epaulettes requests him to join his regiment and 
fight the Mexicans : — 

" As for war, I call it murder ; 

There you have it plain and flat ; 
I don't want to go no furder 

Than my Testyment for that. 
God has said so plump and fairly 

It's as long as it is broad. 
And you've got to get up airly 

Ef you want to take in God. 
'Taint your eppyletts and feathers, 

Make the thing a grain more right ■ 
'Taint a follering your bell-weathers. 

Will excuse you in his sight. 
Ef you take a sword and dror it, 

And should stick a feller through. 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 307 

Government ain't to answer for it, 
God will send the bill to you." 

Mr. Lowell is a genuine philanthropist. He beholds poo. 
Jown-trodden humanity, bleeding by the way-side, and lika 
the good Samaritan, he lifts up the down-fallen, and the beast 
he puts them on is not an ass, but a true Pegasus. Ha 
teaches what we are, and what we ought to be — what we do, 
and what we neglect to perform. He makes the brain and 
bosom glow wkh the luxurious beauty of his imagery, and 
spurs on to the performance of noble deeds by his clarion cry 
of forward. His " Legend of Brittany " is a labored and 
beautiful production, and gives ample proof of his descriptive 
powers as a poet. It exhibits, however, one of his glaring 
faults, for every now and then he exchanges his own Ameri- 
can Harp for a German Flute. Several stanzas are disfigured 
by his dove-tailing Dutch and English words together, such 
as, "whilere," " unruth," " undazed," &c., &c. The reader 
may hunt through library after library, without finding any- 
thing more like the music of an organ than the follow- 



mg:— 



" Then swelled the organ up through choir and nave, 
The music trembled with an inward thrill 

Of bliss at its own grandeur ; wave on wave 
Its flood of mellow thunder arose, iintil 

The hushed air sluvered with the throb it gave ; 
Then, poising for a moment, it stood still, 

And sank and rose agam, to burst in spray. 

That wandered into silence far away."' 



398 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

His miscellaneous poems are sweet and fresh as winrows ol 
aewly-mown hay. Here is a verse taken at hap-hazard : — 

" It's a mere wild rose-bud, 

Quite callow, new, and dry ; 
Yet there is something wondrous in it — 
Some gleams of days gone by." 

The "Violet" is sweet as the breath of that flower. The 
words in that " Fountain " rain down like pearl-drops in the 
sun-liglit — leaping, flashing, sparkling, " waving so flower-like 
when the winds blow." Into the sunshine, into the moon- 
light, into the starlight, into the midnight, ever up-springing, 
always down-falling. In the " Rosaline " we have pictures 
that make the flesh creep and the hair stand erect. Beneath 
the thick stars he sees the blue-eyed and bright-haired Rosa- 
line. Her hair was braided as on the day they were to be 
wed. The death-watch ticked behind the wall, and the wind 
moaned among the pines, the leaves shivered on the trees, 
strange sounds were on the air, and her lidless eyes gazed on 
him, while the mourners, with their long, black robes and 
nodding plumes, passed by. Then he sees the shroud of 
snowy white. By and by the stars came out : — 

" The stars come out ; and one by one 
Each angel from his silver throne 
Looked down and saw what I had done ; 
I dared not hide me, Rosaline ! 
I crouched, I feared thy corpse would cry 
Against me to God's quiet sky ; 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 399 

I thought I saw thy blue lips try 
To utter something, Eosaline !" 

Then faces loved in infancy looked mournfully at him, unti 
his heart melted. The poem must be read to be appreciated 

Mr. Lowell has been liberally educated, and is one of the 
brightest lights that ever shone within the walls of old Har- 
vard. Unlike most men of true poetic talent, he is a man of 
fortune, who knows how to enjoy the good things of this life 
without abusing them. He is a reformer of the most radical 
school. Notwithstanding the high ground he maintains as an 
out and out abolitionist, and the unpopularity of his senti- 
ments on the subject of slavery, his literary labors are in gi-eat 
demand, and the productions of his pen command the highest 
price paid in this country, and obtain the widest circulation. 
Is not ten dollars per stanza good pay ? Mr. Lowell is thirty- 
four or five years of age, of medium stature, has a low, broad 
forehead, light eyes, a large shock of auburn hair on his head, 
and too much moustache, imperial, goatee, and whiskers, on 
his face. He is sociable, affable, humorous, and humane. 
He is married to a lady of exquisite taste and rare attain- 
ments, who has written poetry her husband might be proud 
to own.* J. R. is a son of the celebrated Rev. Doctor Lowell. 
Mr. Lowell and his family have recently returned from Italy. 

» Sln<fe the above was written Mrs. Lowell has " gone to the angel land." 



400 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 



JOHN MITCHEL. 

The most powerful opponent of English dominion in Ire- 
land, during our day, has been the person whose name head? 
this article. O'Connell, at one period, had a wider influence, 
and a more popular audience ; but the endeavors of the great 
orator were directed to a widely different purpose than were 
those of Mitchel. The former was a monarchist; the latter 
a republican. The one sought only to repeal the Legislative 
Union between the two countries. The other desired a dis- 
tinct nationality — a separate State. O'Connell himself, at one 
period " an uncrowned monarch," as some termed him, was 
subservient to the trappings — the gold and glitter — the 
pageantry — the " Tribute of a kingly position," and never 
dreamed of a self-reliant nationhood for his native land. He 
even condemned the republican spirit which actuated the 
Tones, Emmetts and Fitzgeralds, on whose ruin, and from 
the suggestiveness of vv'hose thoughts he came into power. 
Mitchel, in every particular, was the opposite of this. He 
labored with a fixed purpose ; that purpose based on the 
doctrines of Jefferson, and the example of the American 
Union. He was tolerant with the intolerant, and earnestly 
strove to sunder those differences and enmities between the 
religionists of his countiy, which the agitation of O'Connell 
had too deeply sown. He believed that no especial religion 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 401 

should be linked with the national cause. Liberty was ? 
Protestant as well as a Catholic right, and ably and with 
great effect did he dare public opinion, as then formed, and 
state those things in the face of all. Himself a Protestant, 
he was not less a Catholic in his nationality ; and exposed to 
both parties the paltriness of their fears, as regarded the 
ascendancy of either sect, in the event of a successful revolu- 
tion. His words fell with desperate effect, especially in 
Ulster, whose growing adhesion to the national movement 
more than anything else, forced the government from the wiles 
of policy into open and undisguised opposition to Mitchel. 

This remarkable man was born in Dungiven, in the 
North of Ireland, in the year 1816. His father was a Uni- 
tarian minister, who had married Miss Haslett of Deny. 
While the subject of our sketch was yet young, his parents 
removed to Newry, where the future revolutionist received 
the rudiments of an excellent education. He afterwards came 
to Dublin, where he gi-aduated as Bachelor of Arts, at Trinity 
College, and carried off several honors. His learning is not 
only varied, but profound on many subjects, and his knowl- 
edge of the classics and ancient law is only equalled by his 
mastery of the modern systems of government. 

Mitchel, like nearly all of the leaders of the " Young Ire- 
land" party, was originally intended for the church ; but his 
mind having undergone a change, he entered the office of an 
Attorney, a Mr. Quinn, in Newry ; and at the closing of hia 
apprenticeship, began life as the partner of a lawyer in Ban- 
bridge. 



402 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

There is one incident at least of bis apprenticeship which 
cannot be left unchronicled, and this Avas his marriage with 
Miss Verner. He was only twenty at the period, and the 
circumstance is the more noticeable, that the parties eloped. 
In the Life of Theobald Wolfe Tone, we are struck with the 
noble devotion of his beautiful wife ; and when the life of 
Mitchel comes to be written, in distinct characters, on the 
page of history, the love and fortitude of his accomplished 
wife will not be the least noble or interestins: reminscenca 
among the many that will surround his name. 

That Mitchel 8 mind had been a louij time broodino- over 
the state of his country, before he came out publicly, is evident 
from the research shown in his " Life of Hugh O'Neil," the 
great Ulster chief and statesman of the seventeenth century. 
This work was published towards the close of 1845; and at 
one bound its author took a high position as a writer and a 
nationalist. It is spoken of as a work of remarkable power, 
and a perfect daguerreotype of its able subject and his exciting 
period. 

On the death of the lamented Thomas Davis, whom 
Meagher called their "prophet and their guide," Mitchel 
became the chief writer and thinker of the Nation. In 1846, 
he wrote the famous article on Railways, showing how they 
might be used by the people in troublous times ; and were 
not alone constructed for government use, as the officials had 
calculated. For this article the paper was prosecuted. In 
the same year the " Secession" from the O'Connell party took 
place. On the occasion, Mitchel opposed the " Peace Reso* 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS, 403 

lutions" introduced by the O'Connells, and strongly repro- 
bated the adhesion of repealers to either whig or tory ranks. 
He said : 

" For me, I entered this association with the strong convic- 
tion that it was to be made an instrument for wrestin<r the 
government of Ireland out of the hands of Englishmen, 
whether Whig or Tory, and not a coadjutor of any of 
them, perpetuating the provincial degradation of the country." 

And again this timely and scathing warning : 

" Di-tve the Ulster Protestants away from you by needless 
tests, and you perpetuate the degradation both of yourselves 
and them. Keep them at a distance from you — make your- 
selves subservient to the old and well-known English policy 
of ruling Ireland always by one party or the other — and Eng- 
land will keep her heel upon both your necks forever. Slaves, 
and the sons of slaves, you will perpetuate nothing but slavery 
and shame from generation to generation." 

The " Secessionists" formed the Irish Confederation, which 
was composed of all the talent and energy of the national 
party. At the commencement of 1848, Mitchel left the 
Nation, as he deemed a more warlike policy necessary to the 
preparation of the country, than Mr. Dufiy, the proprietor 
of that journal, would admit. To speak his own principles 
freely and without constraint, he started the United Irishman, 
called after the men whose labors he desired to continue to 
the destiny they augured for Ireland. It was the most pow- 
erful exponent of the European mind of the day. With the 
shibboleth, that, the life of a peasant was equal to the life of 
a peer, he, in all the consciousness of right, preached the hope* 
ful doctrines of a comparatively new faith. 



404 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

" Since the days of Dr. Drennan," says the writei of a 
brilliant series of papers furnished to a New York journal, 
" had not been read in Ireland such noble exhortations as this 
famous journal put forth. They had all the vigor of Swift, 
and the point of Berkeley. But there was running through 
them, and flashing from them, an enthusiasm like that 
which summoned the young students of Germany to arms, in 
the Napoleonic war ; and which, again, in the upheaving of 
the nations, in 1848, called forth, in surging crowds, the stu- 
dents of the European schools and universities, from Rome to 
Berlin, and from Pesth to Paris. It was a divine literature. 
It was resonant with the sublime intonation of antiquity. It 
absorbed and poured out again the songs of the Rhine and 
Alps, but was touchingly modulated with the sorrows of the 
Irish race ; and, in quick vibrations, elicited the mirth, the 
scorn, the hope, the vengeance of the Celtic spirit. It was 
the omnipotent voice of freedom, which speaks in every tone 
and dialect, and from crowded cities, as from the dreariest 
solitudes, evokes the responsive chorus. 

" Whether we speak of sea or fire, in the exhaustless nature 
of each, we find a type of that spirit, which in Ireland the 
foreign foe has for centuries sought to master, but has never 
tamed and never can annihilate. If it be like the fire, and if 
it sometimes smoulders, a bold hand flinging in fresh fuel, 
can light it up anew. K it be like the sea, and if it some- 
times sleeps, a passing wind will wake it into anger. This 
has been the history of Ireland ; this the explanation of her 
mysterious relapses and commotions. This gives us an insight 
into the perplexing future. 

" Mitchel's writings did not create, but evoked the insurrec- 
tionary spirit of the country. The spirit had been there, and 
there for ever it will abide. But it was smouldering, and he 
cast it up in flames once more. It was stagnant, and he 
stirred it from its depths, and lashed it into a storm. 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 403 

" Like a sky-wonder in a gloomy night 

Outshone this man upon the ways of men, 

Illumining the fetid social den, 

In which souls dwindled in their prime of might ; 

For that they lacked an honest guiding light, 

To cheer them from the chamber-house of chains, 

Where ghouls, with more tongues than the crop had graii.H 

"Bought up their sense, re-buying with it bright 

Golden-lined favors from the despot's hand. 

Oh, thou wert one — John Mitchel — in the isle. 

To stand before the dooming cannons' file. 

And preach God's holy truth imto the land ! 

Ay, your faith shook them from the damn'd eclipse, 

As Christian siimers shrink neath the Apocalypse ! 

Savage. 

The government was thrown from its centre. The most 
decisive steps were necessary — such was the success Mitchel's 
appeals to Ireland had met with. The villainous " Treason- 
Felony Bill," or " Gagging Act," was introduced by Sir George 
Gray into the British Parliament, notoriously to put Mitchel 
down. W. J. Fox, M. P., the well-known English Liberal, 
considered the bill " an infringement of the liberty of the 
subject." If it were passed, he said " No man would be safe in 
addressing a meeting in times of political excitement." Of 
course the United Irishman was immediately brought beneath 
the lasso of the Gagging Act ; and Mitchel was arrested May 
13, 1848, and committed to Newgate, on the charges 'of 
" felony under the provisions of the new act." He was brought 
to trial on the 26th, and at seven o'clock in the evening, a 
verdict of " guilty" was returned. On the following morning 
he was sentenced to fourteen years' banishment. The closing 
of the scene was deeply exciting. When the sentence had 



406 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND 

been pronounced, Mr. Mitchel, in a clear, firm, and manly 
voice, then spoke as follows, amidst a solemn hush of breath- 
less excitement : — 

" The law has done its part, and the Queen of England, 
her crown, and government in Ireland, are now secure, pur- 
suant to act of Parliament. I have done my part also. 
Three months ago, I promised Lord Clarendon and his gov- 
ernment, in this country, that I would provoke him into his 
courts of justice, as places of this kind are called, and that I 
would force him publicly and notoriously to pack a jury 
against me to convict me, or else that I would walk a freeman 
out of this court, and provoke him to a contest in another 
field. My lord, I knew I was setting my life on that cast ; 
but I knew that in either event the victory should be with 
me, and it is with me. Neither the jury, nor the judges, nor 
any other man in this court, presumes to imagine that it is a 
criminal who stands in this dock, (Murmurs of applause 
which the police endeavored to suppress.) I have shown what 
the law is made of in Ireland ; I have shown that her Majesty's 
government sustains itself in Ireland by packed juries, by par- 
tisan judges, by perjured sheriff's." 

Bakon Lefroy. — " The court cannot sit here to hear you 
arraign the jurors of the country, the sheriffs, or the country, 
the administration of justice, the tenure by which the Crown 
of England holds this country. We cannot sit here to suff"er 
you to proceed thus, because the trial is over. Everything 
you had to say previous to the judgment, the court was ready 
to hear, and did hear. We cannot suff'er you to stand at the 
bar to repeat, I must say, very nearly a repetition of the offence 
for which you have been sentenced." 

Mr. Mitchel. — " I will not say any more of that kind ; 
but I say this" 



OFF-HAND TAKINGS. 407 

Bahon Lefroy. — " AnytliiiifT you wisli to say we will honr; 
but I trust you will ketp yuursi.lt' witLiu the limits which 
j-our own judgment must suggest to you." 

Mr. MncuKL, — "I hiive acted all through this business 
from the first, under a strong sense of duty. I do not repent 
anything I have done, and 1 believe the cause which I have 
opened is only commenced. The Human who saw his hand 
burning to ashes before the tyrant, promised that three liun- 
dred should follow out his enterprise. Can I not promise for 
one, for two, for tliree f 

As Mr. Mitchel j>ronounced the words one, two and three, 
he pointed to the friends behind him. The men thus solemnly 
ihdicated were Messrs. Meagher, Reilly, and (')'Gorman. IIo 
then raised his eye with a proud glance, and recognising 
others in all parts of the court, lie added with eag«'rnes», 
"aye, for hundreds." 

Several voices in the vicinage of the dock simultaneously, 
and with deep solemnity, cried " thousands," " and promise 
for me." The words were taken up all through the court, 
and for some minutes tlie building resounded with "for me," 
" and for me, Mitchel," " and for me, too." 

Scarcely were tlie eclioes in the court-room silent btforo 
Mitchel, carried olf in chains, with a .strong force of cavalry, 
was put on toard an attendant steamer, and bound for his 
destination. He was taken to Spike Island, in the Cove of 
Cork, afterwards to IJermuda, where he spent a year of " sus- 
pense, agony, and meditation." After a five months voyage, 
he was next at the Cape of Good Hope, for five months, in a 
•close, unclean and unhealthy cavity under tlie poop of the 



408 CRAYON SKETCHES, AND OFP-nAND TAKINGS. 'c--^ 

Neptune," when the Home Government ordered him — fearing ^ 
he should instigate, even by his presence, the excited men of 
the Cape to rebellion — to Van Diemen's Land. With the 
assistance of Mr. P. J. Smyth, sent from America, by the 
friends of Mitchel, the Irish Revolutionist effected his escape 
in the middle of last year, and landed in San Francisco towards 
the close of October, where he met with the most rapturous 
reception. He immediately proceeded to New York, and 
has taken up his residence jn the city of Brooklyn, L. I., with 
his family and friends around him. 

I am indebted to one of Mr. Mitchel's personal friends for. 
the above graphic and beautiful sketch. It must have been 
written before the gifted patriot sacrificed himself on the altar •;•. 
of American slavery. John Mitchel, in Ireland, was a repub- 
lican, ia hero, and a patriot. Had he died there, or in the 
land of his banishment, he would have been honored as a 
martyr to liberty ; but he unfortunately came to America, 
and, in a fit of passion, wrote an infamous paragraph, which 
went like a dagger into the very heart of freedom. Being too 
proud or too obstinate to retract, the indignation of the people 
of tiiis country came down upon him like an avalanche. I 
cannot allow the above to appear in the pages of my book, 
without uttering a protest against his views of American 
slavery. 

THE END. 



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